A Cursed Clock
by Muffliato
Summary: Harry swore his time-turner stealing kids were all Weasley. Ginny felt her husband was an utter hypocrite. Draco hated them all, and their hellions figured 1995 was best enjoyed by tickling dragons. — A massive rework of "Cursed Child" and my previous time travel fic, 'Hallowed Time Twists'. Hate "Cursed Child"? No worries, I hope I'll fix it up for you!
1. Children's Choices

**Author's Note:** 'What if the Malfoys came to the Head Auror with their time-turner years ahead of schedule? Turns out, Harry is even worse at hiding dangerous magical artefacts than Hermione. It's a shame his kids inherited his nose for trouble.'

Back in 2011 I started a time travel fanfic called 'Hallowed Time Twists'. I didn't know how to write and dove in head first without a clue. I became so embarrassed that I abandoned the story, chalking it up as a ridiculous plot.

Then _Cursed Child_ came out, which used the same 'ridiculous plot'. I fell in love with the script and saw the play thrice (I'm rather obsessed and incredibly lucky). Still, wow were there problems with the script! I looked back at the abandoned fanfic and realised the main nugget of the plot was still good—and that the cool parts of _Cursed Child_ could be included—though a ridiculously huge rewrite was in order. Thus, this!

You can still view the old 'Hallowed Time Twists' if you'd like. The plot of these two stories will be sort of similar, except: this one's writing is half-way decent, I've added massive _Cursed Child_ plot points, I've switched out Teddy for Scorpius (and Draco, 'cause why not), and many of the old subplots have been removed (though a few odd ones remain, namely Lily being insane).

If you're an old reader, enjoy the new story! If you're just discovering my work, welcome! I'd run while you still can.

Oh and MASSIVE "CURSED CHILD" SPOILERS, AHOY!

**General Disclaimer:** While my Gringotts vault might be filled with knuts, it's thanks to my private army of eccentric nifflers and not because I'm profiting in any way from J. K. Rowling's heptalogy.

* * *

All Albus Potter could hear was the whistling of the train, the crowd's shouts, and the hooting from up and down the platform. His father's embrace was strong—the robes a thick cotton while the man smelled distinctly like flying. He wasn't sure how: it was like fresh grass? A hint of cinders?

As soon as his dad let him go his mum pulled him close. Her hug was stronger and lighter all at once. It made his throat scratchy, especially when there was a kiss on his forehead, a murmur in his ear: "_Your House doesn't matter in the least, we'll love you just the same. Enjoy the year and stop worrying! We only want you to be happy._"

His dad was smiling at the two of them. Uncle Ron gave a roar and swept him up (making his mum shriek as she was pushed away). Aunt Hermione followed soon enough, and while James had vanished Rose was tugging him away from her mum's reminders about studying. All at once the two of them were on the train and he wasn't entirely sure how. His cousin hollered back excited cheers to her parents and brother. His parents were holding each other, beaming at him.

Albus and his luggage were onboard, the Hogwarts Express was chugging away, and he caught a glimpse of his sister racing after the train as Rose pulled him along the hallway, exclaiming about the friends they'd make. He could do without the flitterbies in his stomach.

* * *

A rush of sound, churning wheels, and a minute hand buzzing cheerily ahead.

"She's not usually this bad." Albus came to Rose's defence after she'd left the (their?) train compartment with a huff. The space was filled with seats but it was just the two of them, bouncing slightly with the moving train. It felt nice, especially after the crowded King's Cross Station. "She's only high-strung. Overeager?"

Scorpius Malfoy swiped at the steam fading from his ears, looking at Albus as though shocked the other boy was still there. He was smiling grandly. "Oh no, it's fine. All good. Love the overeager, hyperactive types. I'm a hyperactive type! Wonderful types. She said I've got a nose and you stayed for my sweets, so I like you both already."

Albus couldn't hold back a snort as the tension in his chest eased. "You got me, I can be bribed with candy." A pause, tongue-tied. He remembered his dad's stories about how he'd befriended Uncle Ron. The sharing candy part was there, but Scorpius' blurted confession hung over things. He didn't like it. "Those rumours about you? They're nonsense, I can tell already. Ridiculous, like…like Voldemort's son would share candy! Bet they'd burst into flames if you were actually a Dark Lord."

Scorpius' beam widened. He tossed Albus a chocolate frog and promptly dug into his own.

* * *

A beat of hours, a mighty castle, candles flickering in the air: time slowing down just as you wish it to speed ahead—

'Ah yes, another young Potter. You always are confusing ones.'

Another whisper in his ear…in his thoughts, more like. It was nowhere near as comforting as his mother's voice.

'That isn't my job, I'm afraid. To be comforting. Oh, if it only were!' the Sorting Hat seemed to chuckle as Albus went red. He kicked his feet, not sure if he was imagining the whispers from around the Great Hall. He wished he could see. How much time had passed? 'Now there, this is a good mind. A stubborn one as well. Fiery, too. Burning with a thirst to prove yourself? You do remind me of your parent.'

'I'm not like my dad,' Albus thought with a droop in his shoulders. 'I'm nothing like him.'

'Your mother, boy! Your grandmothers as well, I dare say. Fiery and compassionate all at once, with ambition in droves. They were tricky as well. I gave all of them a choice, in fact. They chose the same in the end, reluctant or no, though they also would have done well elsewhere. Young Mr. Potter, do you know what I ask?'

There were definitely murmurs from the students now. Albus pictured his cousins sharing a look with his brother, James shrugging, maybe saying a joke. He tried to picture the Gryffindor common room, crimson and bright and good. His dad would be proud of that, he thought. Of him. His mum would be proud either way, he knew.

The voice in his thoughts grew softer, the wooden stool harder, the whispers louder. 'There is no need to be nervous. You are not defined by your House, just as you are not defined by your name. You have the chance to be great and to be happy no matter what.'

Albus nodded. Straightened his shoulders, held his breath, and tried not to imagine Rose's gasp of shock.

'Very well. Better be…SLYTHERIN!'

* * *

A day and a night, or a week, or enough movement of the clock that the slithering snake wallpaper (with hissing therein) no longer felt unbearably unfamiliar—

His new friend was reading over his shoulder. Trying to read, that is, as Albus was good at curtailing busybodies with all his cousins and siblings. If it meant literally batting Scorpius away with his free hand and feet, that's what he'd do. Besides, he'd already gotten plenty of gawks for being a Potter in the Slytherin common room. What were a few more looks for shoving the Malfoy heir off the couch?

"OI, that was my BUTTOCKS!" Scorpius cried on cue, hopping back up and missing the significant looks from the other students.

"Phrasing?" Albus kicked his legs up onto the now empty seat. He glanced over the letter again. "Also, hello, private message. If you were being subtle that'd be one thing."

"Come on!" Scorpius gave an exaggerated protest, hands in the air. "Everybody wants to know your father's response. I'm just the one closest enough to gawk."

A silence hit the common room at the loud announcement. Albus was disheartened when several students leaned forward or nodded enthusiastically. He'd almost have preferred if his entrance to Slytherin House had been met with swears and hexes. Who knew ambitious and cunning students were so nosy?

"Could you not?" Albus tugged Scorpius back to the couch, glaring at the plentiful eavesdroppers. "I don't mind telling you, but I'd rather not announce it to the school."

"Oops, can see that." Scorpius ducked his head down (as well as ducking Albus' with his hand, not minding his friend's squawk). "So?"

Albus kept his voice low. Seeing this most of the common room disappointedly returned to their own things. "Dad says he's fine with it, Mum's actually fine with it, and my sister's raging mad. Happy?"

"I guess that's good." Scorpius scratched his ear, head still ducked. "'Cept for your sister, sorry about that. I can't say I'm shocked some of your family's prejudiced against Snakes. No offence."

Albus resisted rolling his eyes. "That's not why Lily's angry. She's…that is…? She's odd."

"Odd?"

"She's annoyed I wasn't more subtle about it." Albus mimicked his sister with a high tone. "She'll be like: 'What type of cunning person chooses a House known for it? Subtlety, Al! It's so a thing!'" His voice returned to normal. "She's mental. Wants to sneak into Hufflepuff or Gryffindor."

Scorpius stared. "She doesn't sound like a Hufflepuff?"

"Hence the sneaking in. Why this…Merlin's beard, is that the giant squid? I can see the giant squid from the common room!" Albus let out an amazed laugh as he gaped out the glass wall into the Black Lake, letter momentarily forgotten. "That's so much better than leaping out of Gryffindor Tower. It's right there, clear through the seaweed! Blimey. Is that common to see?"

Scorpius rubbed his ears, looking peaky. "Leaping out of…"

"When it comes to Quidditch, my mum has a death wish. HOLY DUMBLEDORE, THAT'S A MERPERSON!"

* * *

"I love books, so you know." Scorpius was balancing three on his head. At least he was trying to. His nose was bruised from them falling off. When one had ricocheted off of Reginald Flint's foot the other two dorm mates had made a quick pace to the common room. Albus had confined himself to his bed, laughing too hard to keep his balance. "Regular homework aficionado! Love me a good, enormous book. _Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head!_"

Albus let out another bark of laughter as Scorpius sang off-key. The latter stopped soon enough, grinning embarrassedly.

"Mum likes the song," he said by way of explanation, waving a hand and spiralling _Magical Drafts and Potions_ to the floor. "She goes around singing it all hours of the day. Drives my dad mad, it does." His voice dropped conspiratorially. "But I've caught him humming it, too."

"I'm not the biggest fan of books," said Albus. "I'm fond of potions an' stuff, but reading for the fun of it? Nah. My Aunt, Rose's mum? She sorta scared me off them. Which was kind of the opposite of her intention."

"No no no." Scorpius shook his head, wincing as another book fell. "You don't get it. I like books because you can talk to them. Talk, curse, practice Gobbledegook on!"

"What?"

"They don't talk back! Isn't that brilliant? No teasing or gossip or what have you." Scorpius stacked another two on his head, walking with a waver around their dorm with his arms stretched out to his sides. "Mind you, some books do talk. But they're right informative. I've had some of my best conversations with books! I own a couple of talkative buggers."

"So long as they don't write back," Albus said lightly. Scorpius turned around with a curious glance, arms lowering. "Sorry, family saying. 'Don't trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain'. It's a bit long. But y'see, my mum…"

He instantly realised (too late) what he was saying and to who, and his tongue grew too big for his mouth. Scorpius had become 'just Scorpius' to him over the past few weeks, but he was still Scorpius Malfoy. Related to Lucius Malfoy. Related to the monster who made it so, sometimes, Albus would find his mum late at night, shaking in the kitchen with untouched tea in front of her. His dad would be there too, usually, embracing her and murmuring something in her ear. Sometimes James would have heard the noise before him and would be lurking in the doorway, silently hurdling them both back up the stairs.

"…my mum says weird things," Albus finished awkwardly, laughter gone.

"Mum's the same." Scorpius nodded wisely, not privy to his thoughts. "Always singing about sweets or coconuts, like I said."

"Coconuts?"

"The book one. She changes it up." He shrugged like he was embarrassed, a small smile on his face. "_Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head!_"

* * *

Hogwarts wasn't all good. It wasn't good at all, actually.

It was flying lessons where stares drilled into his back when he missed a tossed Quaffle. It was uncooperative brooms and whispers of, "_He's_ the son of the Soaring Weasley? Trips over his own feet! Y'think he's adopted?"

It was seventh years coming up, kind and grandiose, offering to help with finding the Charms classroom. Then asking if they could have Harry Potter's autograph ("Or two? My sister's a huge fan, she'd kill for one!").

It was Rose's gaping and his cousins' pulling him aside to ask if things were alright down in the dungeons. Like it was a slow and torturous death sentence.

It was the letters from home. His mum's were nice and he chuckled at some of his Aunts' and Uncles'. His dad kept trying to understand but brought it back around to himself ("…things will pick up soon. Sometimes it's hard to see the light when it's dark. But there's always a dawn and, when it comes, the world becomes so much brighter! I wish you didn't have to deal with gossipers, but they always let off. They become bored. Why, when I was twelve everyone was convinced I was a Dark Lord! Can you imagine?").

It was his dorm mates, all but Scorpius walking on eggshells around him. They were convinced that, if they put a toe out of line, he would get his Wizarding Saviour dad to blast them clear past the Forbidden Forest.

It was the classes. Because Albus was smart, he had no problem with magic at home. But it was bloody well hard to concentrate with everyone staring at him, muttering about him, and the rumours only grew worse when he fudged a potion or was less than perfect in Transfiguration.

It was the students who weren't thrilled a Potter was in Slytherin, and who made their views clear.

* * *

"Puttering Potter!" a boy with a face of a cauldron jeered, yellow scarf flung around pudgy shoulders. Albus would say he was surrounded, but it was more that this bloke was covering the exits while his two mates were squeezed in at his sides.

The lanky boy to the right smirked, wand in hand. "Nah, that's too light. How can you call yourself a Potter? The Squib Slytherin, more like it."

"Can't even do a _lumos_! How pathetic is that?" the one to the left exclaimed, wand pointed at the young student.

"Yeah," Albus replied, fingering a dungbomb in his pocket and waiting for an opening. He didn't know the three Hufflepuffs. But they knew of him, and he was sick of being cornered by the older years. He was running short on Wizard Wheezes products thanks to the confrontations. "That's right, I made an explosion instead. Haven't you heard? That's the Potter specialty."

"'Potter specialty', my arse!" a new voice rang out down the narrow hallway. With a sinking heart Albus saw his grinning cousin prod aside the bullies and take in the scene. "Explosions are all Weasley."

"Nah, your side of the family are more like pyros." Another voice echoed. Albus swore as James also pushed through, widening the circle as the Hufflepuffs blinked at the new arrivals. His fingers tightened around the dungbomb. "What's with the powwow? Inter-house bonding?"

"Doesn't look much like that." Fred glanced at his peeved younger cousin, the surrounding students only now shaking off their shock.

"_I'm taking care of it,_" Albus hissed at his relatives. Said hiss was ignored.

"You're right," James answered Fred as he stepped back and forth in mock thought, forcing the circle wider. "Radley here doesn't play nice with others. Invading my brother's personal space? Tsk tsk."

"We're talking," 'Radley', the luggy one, said gruffly. "Isn't that right, Potter?"

"James," Albus tried again, "piss off."

Fred tossed him an amused glance before returning to the Hufflepuffs. "Because what it looks like is three sixth years ganging up on a firstie. Luckily, we figured we'd jump in and even out the numbers."

"_Fred!_"

"You're outpowered." The skinny one to the right still had his wand drawn.

"Would you look at that." Fred glanced around, unconcerned. "James, I think _they_ think we're going to fight them."

"I wouldn't be opposed." James was equally nonchalant. "Of course, I was planning on filling their dorm with nifflers for the next month. But if you want to get off a few spells first?"

The other group had started shifting. Fred grinned in delight. "I wouldn't mind! Uncle Harry taught me some interesting ones."

The three bullies paled at this, scurrying off while tripping over their own feet. As soon as they were gone James scowled at his cousin. "Bringing up my dad? Really?"

Fred shrugged, smile falling off. "It worked."

"Git. Al, you alright?"

"I didn't need your help!" Albus burst out before he knew what he was saying, taking his hand off the dungbomb. James raised an eyebrow, irritation at his cousin shifting away. "I was handling it!"

"Sure looked like you were handling it." Fred glanced down the corridor the boys had fled. "Are people giving you a hard time?"

"It's fine, I'm fine! Leave me alone!"

James stared at him for a long moment. "Freddie, didn't you want to talk to Vanessa before Charms? You'll want to hurry up."

Fred opened his mouth but, in seeing his cousin's look, rolled his eyes and tossed his bag over his shoulder. "Secret Potter stuff, I get it. Al, let me know if I should turn anyone's hair into spiders."

"Fine, whatever," Albus said sullenly as Fred waltzed down the hallway. James remained, bag half-falling off. "You can bloody well leave too. Enough with the protective big brother act."

"Are you being bullied?"

"Course not."

"Seriously," James said in a low voice, "if someone's messing with you—"

"You tease me more than anyone!"

"Because I'm your brother, idiot," he groaned, throwing his head back. "How have you not gotten that yet?"

"Mum told you to look after me, didn't she."

"Don't be daft."

"Or dad, it was probably dad." Albus fumed to himself. "It's just like him, breathing down my neck. Never mind everyone hates me because I'm nothing like him! Slimy Slytherin, the Slytherin Squib. If I wasn't his son nobody would care I'm not in Gryffindor or that I don't like flying. Don't try to make out like you understand!"

James' expression tightened at the last. "You really are daft. Don't get me wrong, I'm sympathetic to the name-calling. But you think you're the only one who has a problem with dad?"

Albus scoffed. Things had always been effortless for his brother. Popular without trying, the class clown, and born on a broom.

"Being the first-born of 'the great Harry Potter', try that on for size." James rolled his eyes. "If the teachers aren't whispering about my wasted potential, I'm being cheerily compared to some relative—usually someone dead, mind you. I think Lily's the only one not bothered by being a Potter but, well, you know her."

He did. Neither brother wanted to try explaining their sister.

James sighed. "About the bullies, tell a professor or something. It's sort of what they're here for. They do something else, too, but it seems to have momentarily slipped my mind."

Albus gave a reluctant grin, feeling a touch better despite himself. Though he was still peeved. "I'm not doing that. I can take care of it, stop barging in."

"Sure." Another long look and quirk of his head. "This Malfoy's odd, I've heard. Eh, like we can talk. But you're being, ya know, careful? He a good bloke?"

Albus softened. "The best."

* * *

If his bullies ended up with pink hair or tentacles for arms after they teased him, he didn't mention it. But he did get James and Fred particularly nice Christmas presents.

If he noticed that Scorpius' bullies met the same fate, this also went unsaid. Though he might've added more chocolates to the gifts.

* * *

"My mum worked with your Aunt, did you know?"

Albus nodded before stopping, the obvious question coming to mind. "Which Aunt?"

"Audrey Weasley. She's a family friend. Dad's peaky around her but she's always around for tea. Ack, what I wouldn't do for her ginger biscuits!"

The name gave Albus pause. Whirling around he properly looked at his friend. "Aunt Audrey? Your mum's an Unspeakable?"

"Yep. Or used to be, at any rate." Scorpius scrubbed the back of his neck. "What with being ill she's on indefinite leave. Still goes on about her projects like nothing else. Fascinating, really, though I don't understand much of it! Too many paradoxes for my liking."

Albus' thoughts cast back to what his Aunt Audrey classified as 'fascinating projects'. An enthusiastic and bubbly woman, she was rather scary. "What sorts of projects? Because if my Aunt's not baking cookies she's going on about dark matter destroying the world. I think she's trying to make the stuff. Uncle Percy swears up and down she's not, but we're all sort of…wary?"

"Nah, not that." Scorpius cast away the concerns. "Mum's big thing is time-turners. There's a reason for the rumours about me, after all. Not that I'm blaming her!" he added hurriedly. "But with her going on about trying to turn back the clock and making theoretical closed time loops? People interpret it more as she _has_ done it rather than her being a nutty sci fi fan."

"Sci fi?"

"Science fic—ooo, wizarding parents." Scorpius gave a grin, unease falling to the side. "Mum loves muggle books. Wait 'til you read Asimov, you'll die!"

* * *

A gush of wind, wrinkle of snow, and calendar pages turning. The Hogwarts Express wasn't as richly red as it'd been at the beginning of the year. The patches of gold seemed faded. The bricks of King's Cross, however, looked as aged as ever.

"My baby!" his mum swept him into an embrace with a fling of her heels, clunking luggage be damned. If her hold was tighter than it had been in September, he didn't mention it. There were people around, tonnes of people. They also made a thick crowd around Albus' descending family.

His dad was chuckling, reaching them at a more sedate pace (slowed by many revered gazes and gasped handshakes). "Let him breath, Gin!" A pat on his back and a 'Harry Potter' grin. "It's good to see you, the letters weren't nearly enough."

The surrounding crowd was muttering; his father poorly pretended they didn't exist. Near them his Uncle Ron had swept up Rose with an enthusiastic cry ("ROSIE POSIE!" "…sweet Dumbledore, no dad. No."). Aunt Hermione laughed as she held Hugo's hand.

"_I love you so much,_" his mum was whispering while holding Albus to her. He hadn't realised she smelled like vanilla and flowers until just that moment. "You wouldn't believe how much we missed you and your brother! It's about time winter decided to pop out its head."

"_Missed you too, mum,_" Albus murmured, watching as his dad greeted James. Lily's braids were longer and she hugged him tightly—and menacingly—after his mother had let go.

"_Slytherin?_" Lily mumbled in his ear, up on her toes.

"Sorry Lils," Albus pulled back, giving his baby sister a weak smile. "I guess you won't be the first in the family."

Lily stuck out her tongue in response, blowing a raspberry. "Like I'd be Sorted there! Actually cunning people are undercover in Hufflepuff, obvs."

"Yeah yeah."

"ALBUS!" Uncle Ron had put Rose down so he could clap Albus' shoulder (as Lily had skipped off to their dad). "It's been too long. Congrats again on breaking the Gryffindor curse! I won ten galleons off George for that one. Good show, mate. JAMES! Blimey, you've shot up a foot."

"Excuse me?" his mum said icily as James was greeted. "You two were betting on my son?"

"Not as much as we're betting on your daughter." Ron spotted the snickering girl in question. Giving an exaggerated roar he picked her up with a swing. "LILY! My favourite psychotic niece. It's been too long!"

Albus laughed but his dad was sighing. "You were over for dinner yesterday. More importantly, stop saying things like that about Lily! It only encourages her."

"Like she needs encouragement." Aunt Hermione came over from greeting James and Fred, smiling warmly at Albus. "Hello dear. Have you forgotten how to write? I've hardly had a word about your classes or how you're getting on."

But then his mum was sweeping him into another hug and Albus tuned out all else.

"HUGO! I missed you, son!"

Rose facepalmed as Ron swept up his giggling, pre-Hogwarts-aged son. "Stop being embarrassing, dad. There are people here. People!"

"Oh love," Hermione pulled her protesting daughter close with a kiss to her hair, "as though your father cares about that."

* * *

**A/N:** I adore _Cursed Child_ but I do have problems with it. High on that list is how James Sirius and Lily Luna were completely ignored (as well as poor Teddy, but I'm likely about to commit the same error). My second problem with the play is how it spits in the face of Ron's and Ginny's characters (and, like, ignores all the other Weasleys?). So…this story's focused on the dynamics between the Potter siblings and their parents, with plenty of Weasley love along the way. Scorpius is also along for the ride, as he's overtaken Ron as my favourite HP character (don't bother questioning my endless love for _Cursed Child_, Ron Weasley, or Scorpius Malfoy: things will go faster that way).

If you haven't read/seen _Cursed Child_—first off, apologies for the spoilers. But I'm keeping the personalities pretty close to canon. This is with the exception of Lily, as I find it hilarious picturing the Potters having an adorable speck of a daughter who's terrifying to boot. I love the idea of the brothers being close and both having issues with their identities within their larger-than-life family. While Albus worries about living up to his dad's name, James is annoyed at being constantly compared to his relatives.

For those who came here from my original _Hallowed Time Twists_, thank you again for sticking with me! While the next few chapters are diverging off of the original plot, once the story gets going there will be far more similarities between the two. Just with less plotholes and amateur paradoxes.


	2. Broken Clocks

"Brand new year!" His dad clapped his shoulder. Mum and Lily had said good bye at the house: his sister had set loose a grindylow in the bathroom and they were trying to repair the tiles (that is, his mum was fixing it and Lily was sneaking another creature in). James had yelled a shouted bye before racing off with Fred and Roxanne. His Aunts Hermione and Angelina had been right at their heels, so Albus hadn't asked. "I know you aren't having the best time at Hogwarts. But Al, this—"

"Albus. It's Albus, dad. Not Al."

"Albus, right. Sorry." Glasses were adjusted, smile dimming. "It's your second year, there's lots of things to learn and explore. This'll be a good year, you'll see.

Albus fidgeted, looking down as a group of passing women pointed at them. His dad hadn't noticed.

"You'll have a wonderful time, I'm sure of it. Things will look up. Maybe try to make more friends? I wouldn't have survived school without Ron and Hermione. I wouldn't have survived at all, actually."

"I have Scorpius!" Albus protested.

"I know, I know. I only meant you could try getting out of your comfort zone. You could talk to more classmates?"

"My last name ruins that plan, thanks."

Hands in his pockets and a searching frown on his face. "Al, I—sorry. Albus, are the other students giving you a hard time? You can tell me, you must know that. When I was at Hogwarts there were all sorts of rumours about me! The Heir of Slytherin, being a raving lunatic? I'd heard them all."

"Thanks dad." Albus pulled away with his suitcase. "Got to catch the train, make friends, be popular. See you at hols."

"What? Al, wait! ALBUS!"

He heard his dad calling, but when he turned he saw the shout had attracted more starers. His dad was already wrestling off three people who wanted autographs and—when he was finally rid of them—his son was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

"Mr. Potter."

"I know I messed it up!" Albus said, shifting his bag and thinking about the unfairness of it all. "I know it's ridiculous I can't do it. I'll work on it, I promise."

Professor Flitwick blinked. The two were alone in the Charms classroom a few minutes after class had let out. "Mr. Potter," he said at last, "it's hardly ridiculous. This is a difficult spell, so much so that only two of your classmates managed to produce it. That's not why I asked you to stay back."

Albus shuffled, wishing he were anywhere else. "It's embarrassing to me," he said.

The professor sighed, sitting on his desk as he talked to his student. "Before I told everyone to quiet down, I heard snippets of what Miss Marshall and Mr. Fawcett were whispering. Are your classmates giving you a hard time?"

Obviously. "It's fine."

Flitwick pursed his mouth. "I understand this is merely a symptom of the problem, but I want to assure you that this spell is particularly difficult. So much so that I've hesitated teaching it to second years and it's more about the theory at this stage. You're a fine student, you simply need to work on your confidence. Not producing the Disarming Charm on your first try isn't a failure."

"_My dad made it famous!_" Albus burst out, not able to stop himself. "He makes everything famous, but that one's practically his spell. That's what they were whispering about, okay? That I couldn't even do an _Expelliarmus_!"

Professor Flitwick seemed contemplative for a moment. "It would be pointless to assure you that you don't have to compare yourself to your father. I also understand more than most that cruel gossip is hard to shrug off." He smiled sadly at Albus. "You are shaping up to be an excellent wizard. Like I said, you merely have to believe in yourself more. You need to concentrate on your spells and truly believe that you can do them. Intent is a large part of wandwork."

Albus looked down, scuffing the floor as he wished he could leave.

"Whatever the case, I'm one for practical solutions rather than waffling sentiment," Flitwick continued. "If you want to master the Disarming Charm, I'll hardly stand in your way! If you'd like to come in after classes, I'd be happy to give you extra tips on that or on other spells. I'm sure your other professors would offer the same."

"Thanks," Albus said quietly.

Flitwick sighed. "Have you talked to your Head of House about the gossip?"

Like it'd do any good. "No. I will, I guess."

"If you tell any teacher who it is that's bothering you and what they do—"

"It's fine."

* * *

"No offence, but what I don't get? Why anyone would think YOU'RE Voldemort's son."

Scorpius' arms were stretched out wide as he teetered on top of a levitating broomstick. Their dorm mates had, once again, long since vacated the room. "I'm a bit sensitive to the subject, here."

Albus scoffed. "You're you! The bloke who thinks standing on a broomstick sounds like a grand idea."

Scorpius glanced down, teetered again, and looked up with a shrug. "James bet me."

"What?"

"Easy five galleons, I only have to prove you can fly standing! I just gotta practice before I—"

"My brother James?" Albus had thought he was smarter than this. "You're so gullible."

* * *

"Alll-busss!"

Albus looked up from his Transfiguration essay to see his cousin leaning against the table, all elbows, wide eyes, and hushed voice. "We're speaking now?"

"We're always speaking. Shush." Rose helped herself to a seat, head tilting in and voice lowering even further. "I have _the best_ gossip."

"You always do and I'm not interested."

"It's about your faaa-miii-llly!"

"When's it not? Look Rose, it's great you're suddenly being chummy, but I have three more inches to write."

"Your dad," she dove right on, ignoring his sigh, "talked to the Malfoys, who were turning over a very, _very_ cool magical artefact. Seems Mr. Malfoy was reluctant, but Mrs. Malfoy wanted to be upfront against the rumours about their son. Y'know, the one about her going back in time, doing the frick-frack, and Scorpius being Voldemort's son?"

"I've heard the gossip. Frick-frack?" He eyed her askance. "How do you always know things like this?"

Rose sent Albus a look. 'A look' saying he should know better than to question his sources. "So _your dad_ now has the very, very interesting object and has hidden it somewhere. Holding onto it for safekeeping! Mum's worried about it, I can tell from her letters."

"Your mum's the one always telling you this stuff?"

"I read between the lines. ANYWHO, your dad. Fascinating magical object. _It's a time-turner!_" Rose continued in a sing-songy, excited tone. "It can go back years, can you imagine? Not hours like in mum's story. They accidentally destroyed all the old ones way back in the '90s, but it seems Lucius Malfoy had commissioned a different sort! The Malfoys haven't used it but Mrs. Malfoy has been studying it. She was an Unspeakable, did you know? Like Aunty Audrey?"

"Scorpius mentioned…"

* * *

"Five _gall-eee-ons!_" Scorpius hollered, shoving the coins in Albus' face. The other students waiting for Charms backed a step away. Then another.

"What the—"

"James was serious and I'm an excellent judge of character!" Scorpius cheered, wildly pumping his fist with the money inside. The students nodded to themselves and moved back further, glad they'd avoided being hit. "Seems your uncle bet him he couldn't find out if you could ride a broom standing up, saying James couldn't try it himself or ask family members to help. Seeing as how the next maddest person he knows is your friend, moi, I'm five galleons richer!"

Albus stared. "You're already rich."

"It's the principle of the thing."

"Which uncle?"

Scorpius paused in his cheer, surprised. "Didn't ask. I figured you'd know? It's an odd thing to do."

Albus scratched his head. "Uncle Ron, maybe. Or Uncle George? I could see Uncle Charlie, but his bet would likely involve fire. If it was an aunt, that'd be easy. Hold on: it's not my Aunt Angelina, right? You definitely heard 'uncle'? Because she's scary when it comes to Quidditch, Scorp."

"He said 'uncle'. Is this a normal thing for your family?" Scorpius' head inclined to the side, arm frozen mid-air. "Hey, s'all good. But I figured you were the weird one of your relatives."

"Thanks mate."

"Good weird. Very good weird. But no, your hero family? Regularly gives crazy bets to underage wizards?"

"All the time." Albus returned to the main point. "Back to why you'd take a bet involving flying. Or, scratch that. Why're you talking to my brother?"

"I don't mind flying, I just don't like Quidditch. Me, athletics? Hah!"

"Again: James?"

Scorpius grinned. "What can I say, I like you Potters and Weasleys. None of you think I'm evil."

"Rose regularly says you're bonkers."

"Bonkers, yes. Not evil."

Albus scoffed. "High standard you have there."

"Says the Slippery Slyther—ow, OW! No need to kick me, I was joking! Sensitive much?"

* * *

"I can't believe I have to say this," Professor Longbottom said in exasperation, "but you can't throw puffapods at your classmates! Did you see the mess they made?"

Albus had, though the plants that had flowered on impact had covered the bullies nicely.

"They also cause dizziness but, ah, it's minor enough." Longbottom waved it away, looking at Albus blearily. "Could you not act like your brother?"

That was a new one. Albus was usually negatively compared to his dad or uncles. Or his mum, if it was about his lack of Quidditch skills. "I'm sorry. I could help clean up?"

The professor eyed the flowering mess in his greenhouse. "I think it'd be best not to. Would it be pointless to ask _why_ you were chucking them around?"

Because Karl Jenkins and Yann Fredericks had pushed him into the venemous tentacula after the previous class, and they bloody well deserved it. "I was being stupid. 'm sorry."

Neville sat down next to him, moving a watering pot to the side. "Albus," he said seriously, "I'm not blind. I can tell when a student's being picked on."

Albus looked elsewhere, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"This was stupid, you're right. But you aren't the type to throw the first punch." Neville sat back in his chair. "Y'know, I was bullied once upon a time."

Albus couldn't keep back a snort. Sure, his family might've mentioned it. But Neville Longbottom was a war hero! He was the cool teacher!

"I'm not saying I know exactly what you're going through, but I know what it's like to be compared to your parents." Neville hesitated. "Yes, Harry and Ginny are good friends of mine. Though, I always thought they were in the wrong for…ah…"

The student blinked back up at him, interested.

"…the names they chose for you three." Neville sighed. "It's hard enough living up to family legends. To add famous namesakes to that list? Never mind one that—" he abruptly cut himself off, "ah, you know what I mean."

Albus felt strangely vindicated. "Thanks."

"Don't get me wrong, those House Points I took off still stand. But this is a bigger issue than a few thrown puffapods." Professor Longbottom leaned forward with his elbows on the table, eyeing him seriously. "I told you this last year, but maybe one of these times it'll sink in. Al, I care about you. I don't give a damn that you're in Slytherin and that I'm not your Head of House. I will always be here for you, okay kiddo? I can't take down bullies, but I can support you. I'll also be here if you ever want to talk."

Albus looked back at his Uncle Neville, giving him a soft smile. "Thanks. I, maybe I'll talk, later. Thanks for…you know."

* * *

His second year whirled by like a snowstorm, spinning him forward with it. Easter hols were gone in a blink, where suddenly even exams were a thing of the past.

The Hogwarts Express chugged him back to London in the summer haze, and Albus looked forward to anything but gazing back at Scotland. Then he was surrounded by family (more than the usual pestering cousins and brother). Well, them and the hordes of people that were always around his father.

But summer drifted by pleasantly enough, with constantly flooing between relatives and going shopping in Diagon Alley with his mum.

He also made some small trips with his dad, which was weird in and of itself.

"Gorgeous day, isn't it." Harry Potter looked around Trafalgar Square with a small smile. James and Lily were at a Quidditch game with their mum, but Albus had never been interested in that. When his dad had mentioned an outing to muggle London, Albus had just been bored enough to jump at the chance. They'd already gotten ice cream, so it was shaping up okay. "I always loved it out here."

"Really?" Albus asked doubtfully, pausing from licking his lemon ice lolly. People swarmed around them, from tourists snapping photos of the lion statues to odd artists painting on the ground. "You hate crowds."

His dad chuckled. "I hate crowds that know me." He took a bite of his ice cream, glancing as a group of teenagers slid past them on the railing. "But this?" He continued on, swallowing the bite. "People milling about in the sun, racing to museums or the theatre? It's nice."

Albus sort of agreed. There was a busker back by the National Gallery and a wave of violin music drifted over the giant square. Traffic constantly bustled around them and he was slightly amazed at what muggles could do. The Nelson Monument alone was huge, not to mention the skyscrapers. His dad must've guessed what he was thinking, because he chuckled.

"I should've brought you kids out here more. Muggles make some amazing things, you know." Harry glanced around, smiling unconsciously. They both wore jeans and plain shirts, and the young wizard was slightly surprised his dad seemed comfortable in something that wasn't a cape. "I grew up in Surrey and spent so many summers just riding the underground. It might sound odd, but it was a good place to think."

Albus frowned, thinking about the old stories. "I thought you grew up with the Dursleys?"

"I did. So when I was old enough, I escaped to the city whenever I could. One Tube ride in and I was a world away." His dad shifted on the stone step, eating more of the ice cream to keep it from melting. "It was almost as good as escaping up to Hogwarts."

"Really?" Albus asked, a bit amazed. He'd always thought Hogwarts had been his dad's favourite place.

"Really." Harry clicked his tongue. "Y'know, magic is everywhere if you know where to look."

…or his dad was just being his usual, strange self. Albus had some more of the lolly, grateful for it in the heat. He considered asking for a cooling charm.

"I've been wanting to spend more time with you," his dad continued gently. "I love to talk to you and I'd like to do it more. What d'ya say?"

Albus paused. He thought about something else. "Why didn't you want to go to the Tornado's game?"

"Pardon?"

"The Tornado's game against the Arrows. You love Quidditch. Why'd you want to go to muggle London instead?"

His dad chuckled lightly, catching up. "'Dumb old dad' does pay attention. I know you don't care for Quidditch."

"Oh." Albus looked at his lap.

"I thought it'd be a good day for it to be just the two of us."

"Was this mum's idea?"

"All mine, I swear."

"Did Uncle Neville talk to you?" Albus kept pressing, this being slightly too odd.

His dad hesitated. "I know the other students are being unkind…"

"I knew it!"

"Al—Albus!" Harry groaned. "I just wanted to spend a nice day with you. There's no ulterior motive. Can we not fight?"

"Sure dad, sure."

* * *

Then there was his actual friend. The one he mailed back and forth, and flooed back and forth, and the one who got sadder as the summer progressed.

Albus talked to his parents about Scorpius coming to visit. He didn't actually think it was a good idea, but Mrs. Malfoy was getting really sick and he wanted Scorpius to be distracted. He emphasised the 'sick mum' bit to his parents, because he figured that would convince them.

His dad had looked slightly clammy and his mum had immediately agreed, so Albus figured it'd worked. He might've overdone it though: his mum became overly concerned in the lead-up to the August visit, asking Albus about all of his friend's favourite treats. "And if there's any allergies, because I need to know that love."

"It's fine," Albus sighed, squirming in their kitchen. At least she was buying sugary treats, which was a plus for his health-crazed mum (having an ex-pro athlete in the family sometimes backfired). "He doesn't have any allergies and he will literally eat anything."

"Your dad's been working on getting most of the stranger things out of the house," Ginny bit her lip, "though there might still be a loose hinkypunk or two."

"It's all good. Scorpius knows we're weird."

"Good weird, dear." His mum said absentmindedly, glancing around. "I've talked to your siblings and they'll behave this week or so help me. I can't tell you how glad I am that you're having a friend to stay! Though it's wretched about his mother, do you think we should bring anything over?"

"Mum. Stop."

"I've been meaning to reach out to Astoria Malfoy for ages, what with you and Scorpius being so close." She continued. "I do hope she feels better soon. Either way, it will be wonderful to get to know him."

* * *

The weeklong visit wasn't turning out as horrible as Albus thought it would be. James had only set the curtains on fire twice, his mum was constantly beaming about Scorpius' manners, and his dad was making an effort to be cheerful. Nobody had mentioned the nundo in the room and Albus was thrilled that bringing a Malfoy home hadn't yet blown up in his face. They'd already gotten through five days, so they were practically in the clear.

Of course, there was Lily. She'd been peculiarly quiet the past few days, taking it in turns to stare unflinchingly as Scorpius fidgeted. Albus had considered asking her but, all in all, thought it best he didn't know. He hadn't long to wait to find out, anyway.

It was after lunch on Tuesday and Albus was happily ignorant of what his parents had snuck off to do. He wasn't paying attention to the dog napping in the corner and was unaware that James had nipped into the kitchen and had met a traumatising sight (one he thought he might as well take advantage of). He also hadn't realised Lily was making a beeline straight to them in the living room. He and Scorpius had been chatting about Gobstone rules when she stormed in, dropped onto an armchair, and glared.

"_You have a nose!_" Lily accused. Scorpius blinked at his equally confused friend. "I've looked through every book, every photo I can find, and you look absolutely nothing like him."

"Uh…" Scorpius poked Albus, inching away from the small girl, "what now?"

It dawned on Albus and he let out a sigh. He should have seen this coming. "The rumour isn't true, Lils. Calm down. Scorpius isn't related to Voldemort."

"Why did you get my hopes up!" she cried out, now staring at Albus in betrayal. "Here I was, thinking you'd backed out of our plan for Houses because, oh lookie, Voldemort's son. But no, nope. Not him. So why did you choose Slytherin?"

Albus put aside Scorpius' bewildered look and the continuing pokes to his side. "First off? It was your plan for the Houses, not mine. Just because you want to take over Britain—"

"Uh, Albus?" Scorpius said in a stage whisper, staring at Lily with wide eyes. The poking didn't pause. "Albus?"

He ignored the nudged hints, "—doesn't mean you can rope me into your plan. It was my choice, alright? I know your whole theory that the true Slytherins sneak into other Houses—"

Lily was properly offended. "It isn't only a theory!"

"—but it'll just take one blown up tower for your 'Slytheriness' to be revealed. It doesn't matter what House I'M in. I still don't see why you want to sneak into Hufflepuff."

"Because it's a ready-made army!" Lily said indignantly. "Loyalty and friendship in spades, ripe for a leader. Here I thought you were getting close to a future Dark Lord, but nope. Do I have to do everything myself? Do I, huh? He has a nose!"

"Albus," Scorpius said weakly, still prodding the now numb spot on his friend's side. "Albus, your sister is terrifying. Albus, I think she's growing fangs. Albus, Albus? _Albus!_"

"What Scorp? She doesn't have fangs, just sharp teeth."

"I honestly thought you were the weird Potter, I really did. Good weird, very good weird." Scorpius hadn't taken his wary gaze off of Lily's smirk. "But this week…sweet Merlin, the explosions…the snapping hinkypunk in the closet…and I thought, I genuinely thought that at least your sister was cute and adorable and normal."

"Mum thinks I'm adopted," Lily said sweetly, eyes now twinkling. "Dad says she's joking and has the baby pictures to prove it. But Uncles George and Ron have a betting book on it, so there's that, and Aunt Hermione thinks I'm the result of 'foolishly mixed Potter and Weasley genes'. She has graphs and everything! It's really cool."

"A week, Lils," Albus nearly pleaded. "All I asked for was one week of normality. Instead, you accuse my best friend of being Voldemort's son?"

"I meant it as a compliment," Lily said defensively.

"In what world is that a compliment!"

"Just because you have a narrow-minded vision and can't see an opportunity begging to be exploited—"

"…best friend?"

The siblings stopped yelling, turning to blink at a suddenly smiling Scorpius. Albus recalled his words and flushed. "Well, of course you are. Who else would it be?"

Whatever ensuing awkwardness was halted by Lily's high-pitched shriek. Albus had been about to tell her that, really Lily, normal people were sentimental at times…when she started swearing.

"JAMES!" Lily stormed, pushing her grinning older (older) brother off of her (from where he'd entered and jumped onto her very much occupied seat). "What the bloody he—"

"Language sis." James didn't scoot. Snuffles sniffled in the corner, before letting out a soft bark and returning to sleep.

"There are other seats!"

"Would've defeated the point of a noisy entrance." He took note of the others in the room. "Lo Albus, Albus' friend. Don't you look chummy on that couch there."

"They were being mushy," Lily sniffed. "Give me back my armchair!"

"Not your armchair."

"It has my name engraved on it, right there!"

James looked at her (and it) askance. "You carved your name…did you put glitter…?"

"James, Lily," Albus said with what he felt was a world of patience, "could you bugger off? I'm trying to show Scorpius we aren't mental."

James snickered, distracted from the chair. "So you invited him home? Oh Albie, Albie."

"It's Albus!"

"_Gimme back my seat!_" Lily stomped her foot. Scorpius inched further away from her. The dog mewed in the corner, rolling over in his dream.

"Be thankful you're an only child," Albus told his friend, not bothering keeping his voice low.

"But where's the fun in that?" James put in with a wide grin. "See Malfoy, I'll show you. If you—_gah!_ Don't kick me, Lils. I'm getting up."

"Get up faster!"

"Barmy sister." James rubbed his shin as Lily retook the chair. He turned back to the couch with an aggrieved sigh, rummaging in his pocket and pulling out a small object. "See, siblings are great for cooking up trouble. Fun trouble, though, nothing better! It's especially great when you're related to me: you're welcome, baby siblings."

"Ignore him," Albus advised Scorpius, who was staring at James in shock. "He wants us to ask what he's holding."

"_It's a time-turner!_" Scorpius said breathlessly, accidentally taking the wind out of James' sails. The older boy deflated, frowning at the blond for ruining the surprise. "I am almost definitely, positively sure that's a time-turner. Time-turners are so not a good idea. At all, ever. Absolutely not a fan!"

"Time-turner?" Lily perked up, looking at James with new interest. Scorpius pointed at her, nervousness increasing.

"See? See! You're proving my point. Time-turners, horrible idea. Albus, your siblings have scary glints in their eyes!"

"They always have those." Albus frowned at the object in James' hands. It was a golden orb with a crystalline hourglass levitating in its centre. "How'd you get that?"

"I ran across mum and dad being gross in the kitchen." James made a face. "What're they thinking, snogging on the kitchen table. Don't they know we eat there?" He shook his head against the unwelcome image. "Anyway, after I escaped the kitchen I realised it'd be the perfect time to search for dad's Cloak. So I snuck into his office—"

"Yep, you're dead," Albus summarised, the upstairs office forbidden territory without an adult. As fond of fires and explosions as the Potter kids were, there were lines they knew not to cross. "Have all of dad's dire warnings gone over your head?"

James gave him an appealing look. "I wasn't going to touch anything. I was only innocently trying to steal the Cloak."

"I don't think you know what 'innocently' means." Scorpius was still eyeing the time-turner. "Eh, what Cloak?"

"Invisibility Cloak. Big bad family heirloom that dad hogs. It doesn't matter though, I didn't find it," James replied. "But I got something nearly as good!"

"Far be it for me to get into your family's business, but you can't be that stupid."

"I can and I am," he winked, not put off. "What's the matter, Malfoy? Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Back way, way far away from any time-turners." Scorpius turned to Albus, hushing his voice. "Very bad idea. There be paradoxes ahead! Big no-no. Nope, I'm not going anywhere near it."

Lily scooted forward, still curious. "What does it do? Is it like Aunt Hermione's stories, where she and dad went back in time a few hours?"

Scorpius stared at her, mouthing her words in confusion. But Albus had long since frozen, remembering what Rose had said months ago. "I, I don't think so. James, I wouldn't mess around with that."

"Spoke to Rose too, did you?" James said. "I don't know how she finds out all this ruddy stuff. Still, it's good to be connected to the Weasley gossip grapevine."

"_It can go back years,_" Albus murmured to Scorpius in explanation. "Rose told me that, ah, someone had handed it in to the Ministry and that my dad had hidden it."

James smirked. "Not hidden very well. Mind you, this house is kind of a fortress to anyone not invited in. But dad should've known better!"

"You have to put that back." Albus was now, like Scorpius, eyeing the time-turner as though it was wont to explode. "It sounds dangerous. If that thing activates…?"

"We'll be able to see dad's adventures." James was back to being smug as he shoved Albus away when he tried to grab it. "You know he always leaves out the details. Even Uncle Ron's silent on tonnes of subjects. 'You're too young' and all that rot. This'll solve that!"

"You'd risk messing with time?"

"That could be fun…" Lily piped in.

"Lily!"

"I was joking!" she huffed. "I'm fine right here, thanks. You can go parading around time, s'all good. But I'm fine with daddy's stories and don't care."

"Come on," James focussed on his brother, seeing that the other two wouldn't be budged. "Aren't you curious? All the mad stuff he and mum did, all the whispers they never explain. We could go back, hide, watch the action, and when we return no one'll know we even left."

Albus eyed the time-turner warily. Against his better judgement (and Scorpius' vehement pokes to his side), James' enthusiasm began to rub off. He imagined seeing the many family stories and legends in real life. They couldn't do any harm if they hid, could they? Why not have a proper adventure, just like his dad? It's what he'd always wanted: a chance to prove he could be great.

"No." Albus shook away the thoughts. "This thing's dangerous, it's a stupid idea."

James humphed, as though the idea that a Potter with Weasley blood would avoid danger was preposterous. "We're talking about a time-turner. We could see the flying car! The escape from Gringotts! Why Professor Longbottom killed the giant snake!"

"Who's killing what now?" A deep voice sounded from the hallway. James cursed, stuffing the time-turner back in his pocket.

"Nothing!"

"Nobody!"

"No killing here!"

"Who did what now?"

As four voices yelled out simultaneously, Harry Potter stepped into the room. It said a lot that he didn't question this or the quasi-innocent looks on his children's faces. Instead, he focussed on Scorpius' fearful expression with a light frown. "Alright there, Scorpius?"

The Malfoy meeped, returning to frantically poking Albus.

"Okay…" the wizard drifted off and turned back to his kids. "I came in to say your mum's making a Diagon run. Does anybody want anything?"

"Nothing!"

"Nobody!"

"Nothing to see here!"

"Who did what now?"

Albus facepalmed, not needing to look at his father to tell the man had become suspicious.

Harry glanced around the room speculatively. "Please don't tell me there's another cornish pixie hiding in the cushions."

"_James has your time-turner!_" Scorpius blurted out before his hand covered his mouth.

"_Malfoy!_" James exclaimed, the loud noises making Snuffles bark and jump in a panic. With Scorpius' words hanging in the air, the paling Harry took no notice. "Damn, and I like you."

Surprise flashed across Harry's face. He moved towards his oldest son as though nearing an Erumpent horn. "Excuse me? How do you even—no, that doesn't matter. Do you really have it?"

James hesitated before crossing his arms and staring at his father defiantly. "Sure. Yeah, I do. I wanted to see some of your adventures. What's wrong with that? Not like you'd ever tell us the truth about them."

Harry drew in a shaky breath with an edge of panic. He took more cautious steps forward. "Listen to me. That time-turner might be unstable and it's surely dangerous. It could activate, do you understand? This is not the right way to, to protest or what have you! Hand it back to me, slowly and carefully. Albus, Lily, Scorpius: all three of you, go to the kitchen."

No one moved. James was less sure than before, taking the necklace out of his pocket. But he wasn't done. "If it's so dangerous, why'd you have it?"

"Exactly because it's dangerous!" Harry's frustration showing through his words. "There were security concerns so Hermione recommended me. I only agreed because I thought it'd be safe _in my locked office_!" His voice was shaking by the end. "We'll speak about that later, just give it back before anything happens. Everyone except James, kitchen! NOW!"

Scorpius jerkily moved to stand but Albus grabbed his arm, focussed on the scene. James scowled, not convinced by his dad. "You've used a time-turner before. They can't be that bad."

"It wasn't one that could go back years!" The wizard's exasperation became obvious. He winced as his son tossed the chain up, catching it with a smirk. "DON'T DO THAT! Didn't you hear me? This can go back decades!"

"I know!" James snatched the necklace from the air again, though his arrogance had been replaced with anger. Keeping the chain nestled in his grip, he glared at his stunned father. "That's the point. I WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH! Not bits and pieces of rubbish stories. You think you're protecting me? You think I don't want to know? You think I'm not constantly questioned about your adventures? Right fun that is!"

The older wizard had frozen and seemed a thousand miles away, as though remembering a distant event. Lily and Scorpius seemed as stunned as Albus felt, for a screaming and vaguely insightful James was about as common as a Wrackspurt sighting. Albus mentally chalked up this day on the, 'let's-bring-home-a-Malfoy' trip a failure. Maybe they could do something better tomorrow, like avoid his family and hightail it to Hogsmeade.

Albus returned to reality just as Snuffles yelped (his overworked nerves finally snapped by the scream). But he looked away from the dog to his brother's red flush, for as soon as the yell had left James' lips his furious expression had turned to apologetic surprise.

"Look, I…" James fingered the time-turner nervously. Opening and closing his mouth the words were stumbled. The message came out clear as day, for both father and son were suddenly apologetic as a line had been crossed, "it's not the right way to do this, I know. Sorry. I…here."

James began to hand the necklace back to his father. Yet at that moment Snuffles—still panicking—raced for the door. The startled boy in the way buckled over as the dog collided with his legs, the chain spiralling out of his grip.

Harry dived for the necklace flying out of James' hands. Albus and Scorpius similarly leapt forward. Lily too jumped into the fray, but only succeeded in knocking into James and pushing them both further towards the chaos.

"NO!" Harry yelled as the chain slipped through his fingers, his seeker abilities falling short as his path was obstructed by his children. "GET BACK!"

In hitting the floor the hourglass snapped neatly in half, sending an outrageous amount of sand out into the air. Harry scrambled to push the others away, but to no avail. The sand swept by an unnatural wind was already all around them: crumbling in Lily's hair, sticking to Harry's glasses, licking Scorpius' tongue, spiralling around James' fist, and sticking stubbornly like an itch to the end of Albus' nose.

The room and world steadily disappeared. Flickering out of reality, the sand, broken picture frames, and Snuffles' echoing barks surrounded the five people struggling to escape (or to even see through the inferno). Albus, rapidly blinking, got a last flash of his mum. She'd come to a running stop in the doorway, gaping as her family faded into the swirling cloud of sand.

A rush of wind, a booming wave: the clock breaks.

* * *

**A/N:** Why am I changing it so that James messes with the time-turner rather than Albus? In this version, Albus never met Amos Diggory. Albus' canon reason for going back in time was to rescue Cedric: he had a purpose, he wanted to save an innocent life while fixing his dad's so-called mistake. In this fanfic, James doesn't have the same call to action. But he's a more impulsive person so he has a different purpose; he wants to prove himself and have his own adventure.

Another reason I'm changing it? I disliked that "Cursed Child" didn't show the dynamics between all the Potters. That Albus is the only sibling that has issues with his parents is a stretch for me. Like yo, their parents are world-famous and they're named after dead relatives/heroes. This is what therapists dream of.

Also, honestly? I'm tired of seeing plots where, 'ooo, the Slytherins screwed up and the Gryffindors have to swoop in with a rescue'. Gryffindors are reckless! Why not have a story where that recklessness spectacularly backfires?


	3. Pottering Paradoxes

**A/N:** I'm super sorry for the delay! In my bad defence, making up a time-travel plot that zig-zags paradoxes is harder than it sounds. Or maybe I just don't get this timey-wimey stuff.

* * *

"…dad?"

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter!"

"James, what did you do!"

"Daddy!"

"Oh no no no, where are we?!"

"Dad, DAD!"

…sweet Merlin, his chest. Harry groaned then winced at the movement, eyes shut tight and shouts ringing in his ears. It felt like a bludgeoning charm had hit him. Or a herd of hippogriffs. Things were black, though, so that was nice.

"Daddy daddy daddy!"

"Dad, can you hear me!?"

Someone was shaking him. Multiple someones. He opened his mouth to tell them to shove off and let him die in misery, when the voices properly hit. His kids were shouting. They were scared. Suddenly, the confusion and pain didn't matter. Not when his children were terrified.

Harry prided open his eyes, fighting against the blurriness and struggling to sit up. What he first saw were his kids kneeling over him—worried but unharmed. Scorpius was there too, next to Albus, looking the most concerned of them all. What happened? His mind was foggy. They'd been in the living room, he remembered that. Then James…something about James. Who was also now looking at him in horror.

He glanced around, bewildered. This wasn't his house. This wasn't his living room. It was familiar in a way, like a faint, morbid scratching in the back of his head.

"Are," Harry coughed, struggling to get his breath, "are any of you hurt?"

"Just you, Mr. Potter. Sir." Scorpius said with an unnecessary wave at his chest. "The time-turner exploded against you, so I guess—"

"I'm sorry! Genuinely, honestly sorry." James was ruffling his hair, an odd nervous note in his voice. "You're going to ground me? Hey, that's cool. But I'm sort of maybe panicking here about _what the hell happened_—"

"Have you seen this room?" Lily's words flowed over the others. Having determined that her dad wasn't about to die, she'd turned her attention to more important things. "Ooo, it's brimming with magic! Those trinkets look like fun."

"No playing with the creepy looking things!" Albus said, voice raising in pitch and volume. "Scorp, stop calling my dad 'sir'! James, shut up! Dad, are you okay!?"

Harry had fallen silent at the kids' exclamations. Everything had come rushing back at the mention of the time-turner. Because, he recognised this room. He knew the objects, armchair, the molting carpet: they had to get out.

"I'll be fine. Lily," at Harry's tense tone the overlapping voices halted, "all of you, don't touch anything. Scorpius, you said the time-turner was destroyed. Are you sure it's gone?"

"Yes sir. Sorry sir."

"Lovely." Harry winced, trying to properly stand with his aching body. "James, give me a hand. Albus, Scorpius? Search around for the time-turner, to be sure. Lily, there should be floo powder in the red pot on the fireplace. I need you to get it for me."

"How do you know—"

"You said not to touch—"

"KIDS, NOW." Harry gritted out against the pain, trying to inspect the room more closely. It was darker than he remembered, grimmer. Not much looked like it'd been cleaned up. He could faintly hear voices coming from the kitchen—most of which he recognised with ease, nearly half of whom should be dead. "I can barely walk, let alone apparate us out. Lily, the floo!"

The time-turner must have taken them back years. It sounded mad, but he knew it was possible. He'd been warned about it. But he'd been so sure his home office was safe…and had forgotten his kids were attracted to the most dangerous thing in the room. He shoved this and his growing panic away, because they were stuck somewhere in time. They had no way to get home and Grimmauld Place hadn't been renovated yet. _Albus Dumbledore was in the next room_.

They had to leave. They had to leave right now.

"I need the powder!" Harry straightened into a wobbling stand, eyes still squeezed shut against the pain. He barely kept his balance between James and the couch (Not _his_ couch: the old, moth-bitten monstrosity that Sirius had lit on fire Christmas his fifth year). Faint laughter came from the kitchen. Even after all this time, he recognised Fred's and George's overlapping voices with ease. "The Leaky Cauldron, that's where we can go. Lily, where's the powder!"

"…dad?"

"We'll keep our heads down, figure out this mess." He tried to reassure himself as much as the kids. He didn't notice that everyone else had fallen deathly silent. "We'll get the hell out of Britain, at any rate! Hopefully the war hasn't exploded yet. But it'll be alright. We'll, we'll work out something."

"_Dad,_" a murmur. Harry opened his eyes and saw James' serious gaze was locked on the doorway.

Harry followed the stare and felt his panicking mind go blank. Lily had never made it to the fireplace. She was floating, bundled tight in conjured ropes, and silently swearing as she tried to kick and bite her captor. Sirius Black had a wand at her throat. In any other circumstance, Harry would have been stuck on seeing his godfather: disheveled, breathing, alive. _But there was a wand indenting his baby's neck._

Sirius stared back at them, glare lethal. "HOW DARE YOU! Sneaking in here, wearing the face of James Potter!"

Albus was the first to snap out of his shock, taking a furious step forward. "Let go of my sister, you bast—"

"_Albus! _Don't go nearer!" Harry shouted, not taking his gaze away from the wand pointed at Lily. "We don't want any trouble. Please let her go. This was an accident and I, I know this looks bad…"

"'Bad' doesn't begin to cover it," Sirius glared. "You're Wormtail, aren't you? The only one stupid enough to sneak in here like this, looking like _that_." He spat at Harry. "When I thought you could sink no lower."

Harry stared, Sirius' earlier words smacking into him. "I'm not James Potter."

"Of course you aren't, you filthy rat!"

"I mean I'm not pretending to be…that is…" Harry fumbled, thoughts a mess.

"Oh, oh wow." The actual James Potter (albeit the Second) gave a stifled choke, realisation dawning. "That's, is that—?"

"Uh," came Albus' faint voice, angry albeit confused, "maybe?"

"We are _dead!_" Scorpius moaned. "So absolutely dead. Mum's gonna kill me! We broke time!"

"Mmm MMMPPHHH!" Lily exclaimed, legs kicking furiously.

"All of you, SHUT UP!" Sirius roared, jerking his wand.

Then just when it couldn't possibly get worse, the cavalry burst through the door: wands in white-knuckled grips and gazes violent.

Oh no. No no no.

"Kids? No sudden movements." Harry raised his hands appeasingly, swaying on his feet. His chest was now more numb than anything, but he felt nowhere near up to defending all of them. He was also very much struggling to come to terms with this. "Or any movements. Don't say anything."

"WE COME IN PEACE!" Scorpius hollered, arms flung in the air. Albus groaned with his arms half-heartedly raised. James choked back a laugh, though was still eyeing his bound sister and her captor incredulously.

"Yeah, sure." Harry went along with it, doing whatever it took to get the wand away from his daughter. "Peace. As an olive branch? My wand is—"

"_EXPELLIARMUS!_" Came five different cries. Their wands spiralled off and were nimbly caught.

"—up my sleeve. But you can disarm us, that's fine." Harry kept his arms raised. He tried to keep his mind focussed on getting the kids out of here in one piece and not on who, exactly, he was talking to. He could have a mental breakdown once they were safe. "We aren't Death Eaters, there was a mishap with a time-turner. We're not looking for a fight! You have my daughter tied up—"

"_INCARCEROUS! WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!_"

Suddenly, all the time travellers were bound in thick ropes and floating. Harry swore as the ropes pulled at his wounds. The few members of the Order of the Phoenix seemed more satisfied, though he tried to ignore how weirdly alive some of them were. Though, Remus Lupin was white as a ghost. Albus Dumbledore didn't seem much better, and Severus Snape was as pale as ever. At least Molly and Arthur merely looked younger and more furious.

"Dad," James stressed, tugging against the ropes as he wiggled three feet off the ground, "_dad_."

"Not good, very not good!" Scorpius was muttering, staring aghast at Albus Dumbledore. "Is it just me or is that _the Order of the_—"

"QUIET! Everyone? It's fine. We should all calm down." Harry bit back his panic and the receding pain, keeping his voice as neutral as he could. He caught sight of the teenagers behind the adults and tried not to gawk at how tiny Ron and Hermione were. "You feel better having us tied up? I can't blame you, this is weird. It's fine."

"Dad!"

"DAD!"

"MMMMPPHH!"

"Sir! Sir, I don't think—"

"The ropes are fine," Harry stressed, gaze back on his squirming daughter, "and I'll answer any questions you have. With Veritaserum, Legilimency…you can interrogate me all you want and I won't resist! But these are children." An idea sparked. "We've made no move to attack you, hmm? We could've just popped in the wrong floo. How about you give us a gesture of good will. That's my daughter Lily. She's not even old enough for Hogwarts. Just get that wand away from her neck, that's all I'm asking for."

There was a thick silence. Wands were still drawn and fiercely pointed, but they swayed at his words. Molly Weasley seemed especially torn, glancing at the furiously (silently) screaming Lily with searching eyes. After another moment she nodded.

"Sirius," came Mrs. Weasley's belligerent call.

Sirius sent her a disbelieving look. "She isn't actually a child."

"Sirius!"

"You can't be buying this."

"_Sirius Orion Black!_ She's tied up and harmless, you can take the wand away from her throat." At Molly's sabretoothed expression Sirius finally hesitated. At Dumbledore's slight nod the animagus relented.

"Calling her 'Lily'?" Sirius raged at Harry. Though, as he was sending her floating back to them, Harry almost didn't care. "You're a piece of work!" He turned to Dumbledore with a glint in his teeth. "Can I handle the interrogation? I'm sure there's thumbtacks somewhere in this place."

Harry didn't pay attention to the threat, too busy looking over his furious but unharmed daughter. She was still silenced, but he didn't overly mind this. Lily was the most likely of the kids to say something that wouldn't be taken well.

"As for you! 'Your children'?" Sirius strode forward, glaring daggers at Harry. "That's rich. The nerve of you, breaking in and impersonating James. You blasted rat!"

If he had a therapist, they'd have a field day with this. "Again, I'm not James Potter. Nor Wormtail. I…I'm uh…oh boy."

"How did you get in here?" Dumbledore's gaze was narrowed. "How did you come about this address?"

"How would we know!" James launched right back, shaken from his shock. "We were bloody well in our living room!"

"JAMES! All of you, not another word." Harry gave them a pointed look. He was quite possibly in shock, but held onto enough sense to know not to annoy the people with wands.

"Transfiguring Death Eaters to look like children," Sirius was musing with a dark grin, "not a bad idea. Horrifically executed. What, you think stealth means you should start shouting like banshees when you break in, and do this looking like a man long dead?"

"I'm, I'm not…" a headache thudded away. Harry cast aside the very horrible implications of this and pushed away the mental scarring to deal with later. He sought Albus Dumbledore's keen stare. "My name is Harry James Potter. These are my children and my son's friend. There was an accident with a time-turner and we didn't mean to come here! I promise you, I'd prefer to be basically anywhere else."

A stiff silence was followed by Sirius' incredulous laughter as well as chuckles from the others. Dumbledore's lips continued to thin.

"Your sister Ariana." Harry changed tactics, not thinking about anything but keeping them from being hexed. "You still feel an incredible amount of guilt about her. Maybe it's because you don't know if it was your spell that killed her, but I'm pretty sure it's because you weren't part of her life before she died. Aberforth's never forgiven you for either."

Dumbledore took a step back, stunned. Harry swallowed and shifted targets. "Snape, you're in love with my mum. Always have been. But you blame yourself for her death because of the prophecy and, as penance, protected me."

Severus Snape shifted from an angry scowl to shock, but Harry kept going.

"Molly, you've always kept Fabian's broken watch. Arthur, you're hiding most of your levitating car experiments from your family. Err, I'm sorry for spilling the beans."

"Remus," Harry paused at this pale face, thoughts flying to Teddy _and dear Merlin his godson_, "you've always thought your father knew too much about Fenrir Greyback. Your name's just a bit too on the nose." He tried to block out the hurt look the man sent him and wondered if he should have repeated Andromeda's musings.

"Ron, you're in love with Hermione. Hermione, you have nine in-depth plans to become Minister of Magic—ten, if you include the lousy one about flobberworms and banana peels. You're also in love with Ron, but you're stubborn and needed better proof than that." Harry swallowed and strode on. "George, Fred? You had a betting pool on if your sister would be in Slytherin. Not many bet against it." Ginny gave an indignant squeak at this. He glanced at her, paling as something hit him. He'd been inundated with so much else he hadn't fully grasped it until this moment.

Ginny. He didn't have a second time-turner. They had no way of getting back home.

The younger Ginny was staring at him, confused and lowering her wand. For a long moment Harry could only stare back, mind numb along with his chest. He missed his wife in all the details of this girl who wasn't her.

"Ginny," Harry's voice became softer, "my younger self reminds you of Tom." She gave a start, wide eyes frantically searching his. "It's okay! It's okay, really. That changes in the future. After you get to know me properly, that is." He forced on a smile. "It turns out, I'm nowhere near as suave as that git."

Ginny gave a nervous laugh. She stowed her wand away without hesitation.

"Did you just giggle?" James gaped at her. "This is too weird. Dad, dad! Did you see that?"

Albus sent his brother a look. "That's what you're focused on?"

"I'm a bit overwhelmed!" James said about the crowd, shaking his head. "Good thing Lily's silenced, or we might've actually been cursed by this lot."

"_James_," Harry gritted out. "There's a time and a place."

Albus sent an apologetic glance at his peeved sister. "He has a point. If she went on about fairy wings, fair enough. But if she started squealing about dark mag—"

"_AL!_" Good lord, his children. At least Scorpius had enough sense to shush. Though, seeing as how the boy was gaping at Dumbledore, maybe he was in shock. "We're back in time in July 1995. Could you not make them think we're Death Eaters? Things are bad enough."

Albus frowned. "July 1995?"

Scorpius started making pointed noises, flinging his head wildly between Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black. Harry was really starting to like the boy.

"Ooo," Albus said slowly. "Got it. Why July?"

"We're still in Grimmauld Place," Harry said dourly. "Pre-renovation. My younger self isn't here gaping at us, which he would be, but he only arrived at the start of August. Hold on, is it 25th July?" There wasn't any disagreement so he took it in stride. "Same as back home. We came back an exact number of years. Fan-bloody-tastic."

Dumbledore had overcome his surprise and was back to staring at him in grim suspicion. "This 'proof' is still—"

"You met Tom Riddle when he was a boy!" Harry knew he'd regret this later. But the stress of the situation added to a mound of unresolved feelings at seeing his old Headmaster in the flesh. The words burst out with little thought. "A lonely, misguided kid in an orphanage. Was he a psychopath? Sure, no doubt. But you've wondered, haven't you? If you hadn't been suspicious of his every move, if you'd even attempted to 'guide him to the light'? If his first introduction to the wizarding world hadn't been you setting his possessions on fire? Yeah, I know he bloody well stole the things. I know all of this because, in my past, you showed me memories of that meeting."

Dumbledore seemed more thoughtful. Sirius more furious. "Are you sympathising with that monster?"

Harry resisted cursing. "Poor choice of words, sorry. But honestly, could I say anything that would fully convince you?"

He was met with a mixture of contemplative and hardened stares.

"Which would be a no. Great." Harry cast aside any attempt at preserving the future: he'd surely already bungled that up. "How about Veritaserum. Or Legilimency. _Only on myself, do you hear me!_ Whether you believe me or not, they're children. It isn't safe to use that on them."

"DAD—!"

"MMPH!"

"SIR!"

"All of you," Harry turned a stern gaze to the four protesting kids, "no matter what happens, are going to stay quiet and behave."

There were gulps (from Scorpius), grumbled agreements (from James and Albus), or muffled shouts (from Lily). Harry figured this was as good as he was going to get, especially as Dumbledore was nodding.

* * *

"Look at it this way." Harry was now tightly tied to a chair. The Order surrounded him while the other captured time-travellers remained bundled up in the air. The 'present' children had been tossed out of the room by the adults. Severus Snape looked overly eager and Harry was nervous he was about to be poisoned. "Either I'm lying or I'm not. If I'm a Death Eater, you'll find out soon enough. But if I'm telling the truth? Asking me detailed questions about the future is a very, very bad idea."

"That won't be a problem," Sirius said tightly as Snape brought out the Veritaserum (Harry hoped that was actually truth potion).

The time-travellers had already been searched. There had been some odd looks for the bezoar, knives, lockpick, Invisibility Cloak, back-up bezoar, transfigured wands, and minimised broomstick hidden in Harry's pockets and the sole of his left shoe. But it was nowhere near as bad as the looks his kids got. Compared to the mound of prank objects, magical candies, and quasi-illegal potions from the young Potters (as well as the salamander that had crawled out of Lily's sock), Scorpius' minimised books on quantum space and his assortment of colour-coded quick-quotes quills barely got a glance.

"It will be a problem!" Harry tried again, salvaging anything he could from this. His chest no longer ached but his nose was horribly itchy, and it was the repulsive cherry on top that he couldn't scratch it. He also felt bad for even thinking about this, but it was better than contemplating the unfolding disaster. He was also losing circulation in his arms. Sirius had taken a savage glee in tightening the ropes. "Let's say you find out I'm really me. Cheers. But that already tells you stuff, doesn't it? So you wouldn't want to ask me what I do for a living, or how the war turned out, or what the world looks like—"

"Would you shut up?" Sirius said irritably.

"—or who dies, because let's face it, you know some people must have died. Me talking about that could easily change the future. Which is what I don't want to do. I can't imagine anything worse, and since we came back all that's been running through my head is how insanely horrible it is to mess with time! …and how Hermione's going to kill me when we get back. And my wife. My wife is definitely going to murder me." Harry gave a plaintive glance around the room. "Actually, is Hermione or McGonagall here? No, okay. Dumbledore? Closed time loops: do you know if they're always a thing?"

"Not always a thing," Scorpius chimed in, sounding nervous. "Sorry, sir."

"_Enough with the sirs!_" was Albus' (the younger's) grumble.

"When aren't they a thing?!" Came Harry's slightly panic-driven voice.

"According to Croaker's Law," Dumbledore answered slowly, "going back further than five hours risks shifting the timeline."

Harry stared at him with newly budding horror. He was so distracted that he didn't protest Snape jabbing Veritaserum into his mouth. But then—the itchiness in his nose faded. His side no longer hurt and he couldn't feel the ropes. He sort of realised his eyelids were drooping and that his kids sounded annoyed (about something?), but it was all hazy. Thoughts slowed and lapsed over one another in dull chunks.

An angry Sirius Black came into view, mouth in a thin line. "What is your full name?"

His mouth and head were filled with cotton. The words came from somewhere, but he was only dimly aware of them. "Harry James Potter."

The shocked silence was only broken by the time travelling children's cheers. Sirius stared at Harry, unnerved.

"What," the older man swallowed and repeated the question, "what is your full name?"

"Harry James Potter."

"When were you born?"

"31st July, 1980."

Sirius paused before biting into the questions with a new fury, jerking back to life. "Who are your parents?"

"Lily and James Potter."

"Who's your godfather?"

"Sirius Black."

"Where did you grow up?"

"#4 Privet Drive, Surrey."

"When were you born?" Sirius snapped again.

"Sirius," Dumbledore stepped up, speaking over Harry's monotone response ("31st July, 1980"). He was as shocked as the rest, but was now eyeing the newcomers with delight. "There is no doubt as to the truth."

"Veritaserum can be overcome," Sirius said instead. His gaze held a hint of doubt when he glanced back at Harry.

"No, it cannot." Dumbledore knelt, coming to Harry's eye level while the latter sat unmoving. "Hello Mr. Potter, my apologies for all of this. But I do have a few further questions. You said there was an accident with a time-turner. What was it? Details are quite welcome."

"An experimental time-turner was brought to the Ministry by Draco and Astoria Malfoy," Harry said simply, not reacting to Scorpius' gasp. "It had the capacity to go back years and Mrs. Malfoy was concerned about having it. For safety, it was given to me and I locked it in my home office. My house is heavily protected, but I overlooked that my kids might get at it. James found it and, when he tried to give it back, the object was dropped and broke. Next thing I remember was waking up and being back in 1995."

"What date did the 'time-turner accident' happen in?"

"25th July, 2018."

"You were in Grimmauld Place when this accident occurred?"

"Yes."

"Are you positive that you were not moved through space as well as time?"

"I'm certain."

"How much do you know about the mechanics of the experimental time-turner?"

"Basically nothing."

"Does this altered time-turner exist in this time?"

"I'm not sure."

Dumbledore frowned. "What do you mean?"

The words continued to roll off Harry's tongue. "Lucius Malfoy possessed it from the start of the Second War against Voldemort, but I'm unsure how long before that he had it." He vaguely heard a yelp from Scorpius.

"When did the Second—no, no. Don't answer that." Dumbledore sat back, gaze contemplative. "You do not wish me to ask any personal questions or questions about the larger war?"

"Yes."

"Was it truly, wholly an accident that you travelled back in time?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any idea how to return to your home?"

"Wait it out, try not to change anything else, steal the time-turner from Lucius Malfoy as soon as possible, and erase the memories we need to in order to not alter the future. Though I'm pretty sure that'd create a paradox."

"It hasn't escaped my notice there seems to be a young Mr. Malfoy in your party." There was an audible gasp from Scorpius. "Who is he? You said he was your son's friend. Do you believe he could cause any harm to the Order of the Phoenix?"

"This is Scorpius Malfoy, Albus' best friend," was Harry's reply. "He's an innocent twelve year old who got swept into this. He's a good kid. He's no risk to anyone and is under my protection."

Dumbledore turned back to the Order, almost all of whom had pocketed their wands and were staring at the time-travellers in awe. "Does anyone have remaining doubts?"

Sirius snorted.

"I see." Dumbledore returned contemplatively to Harry, who hadn't so much as twitched. "What is something that would convince Sirius Black of your identity?"

The answer flowed out without thought or concern. "Sirius would occasionally, accidentally call me 'James' when I was a teenager. Whenever he did it he'd look at me like I was someone else. That's why I never believed he would adopt me." The confession came out on fluffy clouds, cotton still holding back any inhibitions. "Even if Sirius was freed, he wanted a best friend, not a son. Definitely not me. We're the only two people who know this for sure."

Sirius made a small noise, eyes round and wide. His wand arm fell limp as another thick silence hit the living room. Dumbledore dropped his eyes.

"Where's," Sirius said at last, gulping back a frog in his throat, "where's the antidote?"

The potion was fed to him and Harry blinked back to reality, tasting something fowl in his mouth. His stare locked on Dumbledore's, his thoughts sped back up, and the last few minutes came back to him. He closed his eyes, refusing to look at Sirius or the Order. "Great. Now that I've humiliated myself, do you believe us?"

"Harry…"

"Sirius, whatever it is, I'm not in the mood." Harry snapped his eyes back open and twisted around as best he could to check over the children. "Call me Wormtail another time, will you? All I need to know is if you believe us and if we can get out of these ropes."

Sirius closed his mouth, swallowing thickly. But he nodded at Dumbledore, stumbling back as he did so.

"_Finite incantatem_," Dumbledore mumbled, his wand waving over them. As the ropes fell away from Harry's hands, he couldn't help but stare at the Elder Wand.

Oh hell.

"So, no one's gonna attack us?" Scorpius asked as they were released. Harry shook his head, forcing himself back into the present: even if it was the wrong present.

"_Don't question it,_" Albus hissed.

Harry stood shakily, looking over the kids. They seemed relatively in tact. He turned back to the impossible sight and forced a smile. "Hi," he told the mixture of dead and alive people, hoping he sounded cheerful, "I know this is weird. It's extremely weird for me too."

Everyone was staring at him. Severus Snape seemed either murderous or shocked, he wasn't sure which. Everyone else was merely gobsmacked.

"Harry?" Molly said in a tiny voice, hands at her mouth.

"Err, yeah." Harry coughed. He could barely acknowledge his future in-laws, let alone the rest of the impossible people. Best to nip this in the bud. "Everyone's agreed I am who I say I am? Great. To sum it up? I don't want to be here and I absolutely don't want my children here. So there's two options going forward. One: all of you agree to a memory charm and we flee Britain. Or two: all of you refuse a memory charm, and we still flee Britain."

The tiniest of plans was forming in his head, which perhaps he had the truth serum to thank. In this time, Lucius Malfoy might already have the experimental time-turner. So Harry could steal it, screw the paradoxes, and get them all home. It was likely to blow up in his face, but this was what he did best.

"Flee Britain?" Remus Lupin asked in a faint voice. Harry forced himself to look at him. Remus had kept quiet so far, and he now realised why: the man was white as a ghost. "Ha—Harry, why would you do that?"

Harry stared at him for a long moment, thoughts torn from the time-turner. Sure, he was mortified because he was talking to a dead person. But he also couldn't believe someone had to ask him that question. "…Remus. Hi. Long time no see. As to why I'm fleeing Britain? My kids are here. Little mini-humans I'm in charge of." He gestured at them, in case anyone had missed the clear fact. Albus waved awkwardly and James helpfully pointed at himself. "As much as I want to get us home, I mainly want to keep us alive."

Molly took a step forward before freezing, quivering as though she wanted to hug him. "But Harry—my word, Harry!—you are absolutely welcome here. You and the children, of course." She gazed at him with shining eyes. "You've gotten so tall! You look wonderful, dear."

"Thanks?" Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "This isn't anything personal, Britain's just far too dangerous right now. So we're going to grab some international portkeys and—"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore spoke up, "you could think about this overnight? This is a large decision to make impulsively."

Harry let out a low exhale. "This is about the least impulsive thing I've ever—"

"We could talk." Sirius seemed the most surprised at his words, or that he'd cut in. He met Harry's reluctant gaze. "You don't have to stay for ages. Believe me, I get not wanting to stay in this wreck of a house." He sent the smallest frown at Dumbledore. "But you lot could stay for a bit. We could chat. Clear the air, ya know?"

It was something in Sirius' tone that made Harry hesitate. He had no desire to drag all of this to the surface and he'd rather attack a Hungarian Horntail than have a 'heart-to-heart' with this man. But, still. It was Sirius Black.

"Dad?" Albus softly spoke. Harry berated himself—right, think of the kids, flee Britain. "We could stay overnight. Work out plans and stuff."

"Indeed." Dumbledore agreed. Albus flushed. "Might I also mention, we could discuss time magic and ways of getting all of you back to where you are meant to be. There's a particular item of note that we ought to do soon." He met the reluctant wizard's gaze, something like understanding therein. "I give you my word it will have nothing to do with the war. Short of you having knowledge of an attack on Grimmauld Place in the coming days, you have little to lose by momentarily staying put."

…he was absolutely being manipulated by Albus Dumbledore. Again. It was a shame the older wizard made so much sense. Harry glanced over the kids. "What do you guys say?"

"I vote Siberia!" Scorpius said in a panic, waving his hand.

"I vote New York," Lily said quickly. "I so don't wanna be in the UK. Can we mess with MACUSA by pretending to be seers?"

"Siberia or New York, sure. But absolutely no to the last part. MACUSA's terrifying." Harry answered at once. He turned to his boys. "How about you two?"

James shifted. "I get that my vote should maybe not count. But I'm totally for staying in Britain. We could always memory charm people—err, sorry people. There's nothing too dangerous here for awhile, I think?"

Harry remembered being attacked by dementors. "Right," he said doubtfully.

"I'm also voting to stay here. Sorry Scorp." Albus shrugged. "Grimmauld Place is pretty safe?"

It was sort of safe, which Harry hated to admit. He turned to the Order. "I guess I'll break the tie. If you'll have us, we'll stay the night. But just the night! I do want to figure out the time magic nonsense."

Molly beamed.

"Excellent, I'm glad that's taken care of. Now, we do have a little bit of time, I believe." Dumbledore glanced at his pocket-watch. "I'll give you a few minutes to get your bearings," the Headmaster finished kindly.

Harry stared at him blankly as the older wizard ushered the Order towards the door, though only a few exited. Snape darted out with a scowl and backward glances. Molly and Arthur stayed, talking softly to Dumbledore. Sirius looked back and forth before ultimately staying, though he patted Remus' shoulder as he rushed from the room.

Harry frowned at the last, wondering if it was near a full moon. Then again, he wanted to race away from time travel as well. Speaking of 'time', what had Dumbledore been on about?

'We have time before what? And "to get your bearings"?' Harry thought in disbelief. 'I'll get those bearings and shove it up his—"

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was pretty much the worst time to face his lingering issues with Dumbledore. Besides, he had more pressing things to worry about. He turned to the kids, only to find they'd been staring at him. Apparently they'd been waiting to speak 'in private', because a rush of sound met him:

"We are _so screwed!_" Scorpius moaned to Harry, to the air, to a befuddled Albus (the younger). "We need to be in Siberia! Mr. Potter, tell me we aren't screwed!"

They were absolutely screwed. Harry diplomatically didn't answer and tried to give off a reassuring look.

"Holy Dumbledore, Holy Dumbledore!" Lily's hands were over her mouth and she was practically vibrating. "We cannot stay here, 'kay? That was actually the—and they cursed us—and daddy do you know who else is alive? Though that one's not good at all, because oh my god DAD! I wanna _be_ a Dark Lord, not _fight_ a Dark Lord!"

Harry internally cursed, only just catching himself before he said it aloud. Because she was right. That is, Lily was hardly ever 'right', she was vaguely psychotic. But Tom Riddle was alive, all his Death Eaters were here, and did he mention that Lord Voldemort wasn't in a shallow grave?

Albus was looking at him oddly. "Soo, I know there's a lot of other things. Because Lily's right and that's terrifying. But what were you saying about Sirius Black? Because, uh? Also, was that…did _Severus Snape_ just…and was that _Teddy's dad?_"

Nope. Harry wasn't answering any of that either.

"Forget about that Al! Lils actually has a good point. And Scorpius might be right." James seemed exceedingly nervous. "Dad? I am beyond sorry. This got all messed up and, gah! I didn't mean to resurrect Voldemort, I swear!"

Finally, this was something Harry could answer. "You didn't mean to?" he said in a soft voice, quieting all the kids at once. "You didn't mean to steal a dangerous time-turner, _then bring it to your younger siblings?_"

James paled. "Dad, I swear I—"

Harry looked at the ceiling for patience. "You're smarter than this! How could you do this?"

"I—"

"Never mind, we'll deal with that later." Harry cut in brusquely, turning back and addressing all of the children. "Kids? This is a horrible situation, I can't lie. I'll figure out some way to get us home, but I don't know what will happen. Either way? You'll all be safe. I don't care if a war's raging out there." He looked at Scorpius, expression further softening. "Scorpius, I can't apologise to you enough; I had no idea you'd be near the time-turner. I'll try everything I can to get you back to your family. Until then? You're part of ours, and we'll all make it through."

He turned to the lingering and curious adults "You said that 'we have time'," Harry addressed Dumbledore. "Well, we're _back_ in time. The only thing I want to get to is decades from now. Why're you in a rush?"

Dumbledore looked at him with a small smile. "I'm afraid I cannot help with tossing you forward decades. However, there is another brand of time magic we ought to quickly pursue."

Harry stared at him, waiting a long beat. Though it was Sirius who piped in. "Well? What is it!"

The Headmaster took another glance at his pocket-watch. "I believe," he mused, "we have roughly four and a half hours to set up a closed time loop. Best get moving, I say."

If Harry ever got out of this situation, he was never touching magical theory or barmy artefacts again. Let Hermione get bogged down with riddles.

* * *

**A/N:** J.K. Rowling put in multiple time travel theories into her series. This is typically frowned on (for obvious reasons), but I'm taking full advantage of it. _Prisoner of Azkaban_ heavily implied that only closed time loops could exist. _Cursed Child_ incredibly implied that the butterfly effect's king: that any minor change to the timeline creates chaos. Rowling tried to patch this up by saying that any time travel 5 hours or less could create a closed time loop; anything more creates an alternative timeline.

I'll ramble more about my own time theories in later chapters, but for now? These two rules leaves a loophole that this fanfic will be taking full advantage of. It's this question: what happens if you create a closed time loop immediately _before_ the time you arrive far in the past?


	4. Fretting Families

**A/N:** Hey, I'm still here! I've finally had time to catch up on writing, what with the pandemic and rioting curfews. Whoo? Most importantly, I hope all of you are safe and staying sane.

As for the actual fanfic, this chapter takes place 'back in the future'. It also features Astoria Malfoy, seemingly very healthy. This isn't a mistake. It's a plot point that will be explained soon.

* * *

The clock ticked. The hands whizzed forward—blurring forward—spinning past years or eons. Until it finally rested back at where it'd begun.

"Good morning, Ethel." It wasn't a good morning. It was shaping up to be a rubbish day for Hermione Granger-Weasley, as she'd been dragged into three meetings before even making it to her office. One had contained a shouting goblin assembly, another a party of Pureblood Rights activists, while the last had been done entirely in Mermish. Hermione didn't speak Mermish. She thought it'd been Mermish. There'd been plenty of seaweed over the tables, at any rate.

Taking out her hair bun and walking past her secretary, she noticed the odd look on Ethel's face. Hermione quickened her pace, hoping the rest of the day wouldn't be this annoying.

"Potter is pissed." Ethel said before her boss could get out of earshot. Hermione reluctantly turned towards her. The grey haired Glaswegian was unflappable but had an odd sense of humour. "Barged right inta your office a touch ago, looking a right, furious tizzy!"

Hermione absolutely hated today. "'Pissed' as in angry, or 'pissed' as in drunk?"

"Could be either. Or both. I'd lean towards angry."

The Head of Magical Law Enforcement sighed. "Unless the Ministry's literally burning down, tell him I don't want to deal with it." With her head still swimming with Mermish she nodded to herself, coming to a decision. "Tell him I'm at lunch. Tell him that whatever it is, he can bother Kingsley. Tell him that he's supposed to be on vacation!"

'A sandwich,' she thought to herself as she moved away from her office and the unwanted guest. 'I need a big, egg salad sandwich, with a teaming latte…'

"She." Came Ethel's voice. Hermione stopped, waiting for more. Nothing else came.

"She?"

"_Mrs._ Potter's pissed." Ethel gave an amused grin. "She was shouting 'bout murdering you an' her husband. She's sitting right there in your office."

"Ginny was shouting about murdering me, so you let her into my office?" Hermione went over the words, frowning as the obvious hit her. "What did I do?"

Ethel waved towards the now-ominous doorway. "I'd ask the pissed Potter. Who had a wand in hand, so I wasn't 'bout ta get in her way."

"Thanks Ethel," was the dry response.

* * *

Ginny seemed calm enough. She was sitting in Hermione's chair behind the desk, but the brunette wasn't about to make a point of it. Especially as Ethel had convinced her she'd be screamed at the moment she walked into her own office.

"Hello Hermione." Ginny said. The woman's hands rested on the arms of the chair. Mascara had made small swoops around her puffy eyes and her sister-in-law felt her apprehension turn to sympathy. Something was wrong, that much was certain.

Hermione stepped forward. "Are you okay? Have you been crying?"

Ginny pursed her lips, ignoring the queries. "I'm going to ask you a few questions. If you don't give me satisfactory answers, I'm going to raise hell. Hell like you've never seen before. I'll make Voldemort look like a small, insignificant puppy. Am I clear?"

Hermione blinked, taken aback. "Crystal. But Ginny, what—"

"Have you lost your mind?"

"Excuse me?"

"Or—what in Merlin's name _were you thinking_? Or not thinking?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Ginny stood up like a rocket, anger rolling off her in waves. She apparently tossed out her questions. "Have you lost your mind? Because I could have sworn that you and Harry told me there was no harm in hiding a time-turner in my house. That it was in a box that made the magic inactive. That there was NO BLOODY WAY THE THING COULD WORK."

Hermione took a step back, paling as the implications hit her. "What?"

Ginny strode towards her, drawing her wand. "I just saw my family disappear." She was near enough that Hermione could feel her breath, see the sweat on her forehead and mused up hair. The wand drew centre with her stomach. "My living room was filled with sand. I could barely see a thing, but I heard my babies' voices and caught a glimpse of Harry's _terrified_ face." Ginny leaned in, fury etching her expression as her best friend gaped. "It wasn't safe. You were wrong."

"I'm so sorry." The words slipped out as Hermione scrambled to make sense of this. The room was filled with sand? Oh god, Harry and his kids? All of them? If it was the time-turner…

Ginny's voice was clipped with ice and intensely calm. "How can we reverse this?"

Hermione gasped at her, not noticing the wand anymore. How do they reverse this? If it was the time-turner (Malfoy's time-turner that shouldn't exist; a prototype, experimental, one-of-a-kind impossibility) then she hadn't the faintest. It could go back years in time. "I'll summon the Unspeakables and—"

It went back years in time. Years.

Apparently this horror had spread across Hermione's face. "What now!" Ginny snapped.

Just like the wand nestled by her torso had been forgotten, this realisation also took precedence over Ginny's fury. Hermione felt her throat clench, words from an old meeting churning up in her mind:

* * *

_"Fifty years, huh?" Harry stared at the time-turner resting on Hermione's desk. "All or nothing, or anything in-between?"_

_ "Anything up to fifty years." Draco Malfoy had answered, hand clasped in his wife's. "Don't get any funny ideas, Potter. There's a reason even my father was too scared to use it."_

_ "We understand the gravity of the situation." Hermione had answered. She glanced at Harry, who was gazing at the bulging gold object with something in his eyes. "Harry. Harry?"_

_ "Hmm? Right, yes. Of course." Harry shook his head and straightened, not quite looking at any of them._

_ "Harry."_

_ "Not here, Hermione." He'd said testily, the Malfoys clearly curious._

_ "Harry."_

_ "The war was won. I have a family." Harry had said decisively, at last meeting her gaze. "Don't look at me like that. I wouldn't risk all of this on a pipe dream."_

* * *

"It must have been an accident." Hermione said faintly, coming out of her memories as Ginny's furious scowl remained an inch away. "Harry wouldn't have used it on purpose."

"Of course he wouldn't have!" Ginny exclaimed, frown only deepening. "That doesn't mean he wasn't being a prat. My kids get into everything. They attract chaos. You told me it wouldn't work!"

"I said it'd be protected. Harry locked it away, but it was mainly the wards around your home that would protect it."

"AROUND my home? MY KIDS WERE IN MY HOME!"

Hermione didn't know how to answer this. It was a stupid thing to overlook, but she and Harry had been so focussed on making sure the powerful object couldn't be stolen. She hadn't given much thought that someone already inside the house could find and activate it.

* * *

The clock tocked. Daily savings adjusted an hour (A decade? A life?), springing forward. Flinging forward. Flopping over the edge. Tilting time on its side.

Draco Malfoy's mouth pulsed. Astoria gripped his hand. He fleetingly thought it was because she was afraid, but then he felt her fingers' tight tug. This clearly said: 'For Merlin's sake, don't overreact! Again!'

Draco gave the smallest of nods to his wife, getting a tiny smile back. He returned his attention to _what the utter hell_ was happening in front of him. "Let me get this straight," he drawled, not even able to take pleasure in making Hermione Granger-Weasley squeamish. "We voluntarily relinquished a dangerous magical object to the Ministry. You and Potter assured us it would be kept safe. You're now telling me that Potter put the time-turner in his office, in the same house MY SON was staying at?"

"Mr. Malfoy—"

"I am nowhere near done!" Draco launched back in, ignoring his wife's sigh. "Then someone got ahold of the _dangerous time-turner_, activating it RIGHT NEXT TO MY SON. Are you telling us, are you SERIOUSLY TELLING US that you LOST SCORPIUS IN TIME?"

The brunette looked nowhere near nervous enough to the storming Draco, but she was always too brave for her own good. "I can't even begin to apologise." She said haltingly. "Obviously, Harry and my judgments were deeply flawed. Unspeakables and Aurors are currently at the Potters' going through every grain that was left behind, and I of course hope that a solution will be found. Yet I," she tilted on the edge, "don't want to gloss over the seriousness of this matter."

"YOU LOST MY SON!" Draco roared.

"Mrs. Gran—Mrs. Granger-Weasley!" Astoria tugged him back to his seat, speaking in a much calmer tone than him. "I think what my husband is attempting to say, is that we are both familiar with time-turners. I'm an Unspeakable myself, after all. I believe the most pertinent questions are: are you positive the time-turner was activated and, if so, do you know how far back it went?"

Granger-Weasley closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "It was certainly activated, we believe accidentally. Ginny Potter came into the room right as they were disappearing, when the sand from the hourglass scattered."

Astoria blinked. "The sand scattered? The time-turner broke?" A deep note of fear entered her voice.

Draco was focussed on an entirely different thing. "_'They'_?" He repeated dangerously. "'They' disappeared? Who precisely vanished?"

Granger-Weasley met his gaze, marginally calmer. "That is partially good news. The three Potter children disappeared with your son, but luckily Harry was also—"

"MY SON IS LOST IN TIME WITH HARRY BLOODY POTTER?"

"DRACO!" Astoria cried out, tugging him back to the seat before whispering furiously in his ear. "_She's right, that is somewhat good news. He's the Head Auror. He'll know how to protect our baby._"

"The time-turner can go back FIFTY YEARS!" Draco roared again, beyond furious. "Need I remind you what much of those fifty years consisted of? Scorpius is stuck somewhere in the past WITH THE ONE MAN WHO HAS A BULLSEYE ON HIS BACK."

Finally, Granger-Weasley was paling. "We have no evidence that they're in a time when Voldemort was alive."

"HARRY POTTER IS A WALKING EXPLOSIVE!"

_Finally_, Astoria seemed properly nervous. Or, no, she didn't look nervous. She looked like she had an idea. Draco became more hopeful as well as warier.

"Oh. Oh!" Then Astoria apparently lost her mind, as she began to laugh. "My, I haven't thought of that in years. No dear, I don't mean the time-turner or the like. I mean that I might have a clue to all of this."

Granger-Weasley looked as confused as Draco felt. "Pardon?"

"You said there's some Unspeakables at the Potters?" Astoria asked instead. Without waiting for an answer: "Good, good. I can only imagine the Weasleys are also congregating. Can you make sure Audrey Weasley is there? Thank you, good, I'll meet you two there. I just need to grab a thing."

"Astoria—!" Draco called out in confusion, but his wife had already taken her cloak and was breezily wafting out the door. He turned in amazement to the remaining woman, who met him with equal befuddlement.

"Is," Granger-Weasley hesitated, "is she usually like that?"

Draco considered this. Then sighed. "Quite. It looks like my brilliant wife has a plan to get Scorpius back."

She kept looking to the door then back to him, brow knitting. "I see?"

"I don't." He gave a rough laugh, deciding he may as well go along with the nonsense. "Don't get me wrong, Granger-Weasley: if my son isn't safely returned, it'll be on your head."

Her mouth parted as though she saw the faint humour too. "As it should be. Whichever way, it looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other." She hesitated, teetering on something. "I suppose, we should go to the Potters?"

He couldn't believe his day had come to this. He glanced back to where his wife had vanished, thinking of how everything had gone so sideways. "Apparently."

* * *

When Ron had received a frantic Patronus telling him to get to the Potters' pronto, he hadn't expected he and George would have to dodge around a bustling crowd of Ministry workers to enter the place. A couple pushes and shouts (and threatened hexes) later, they'd found out their sister had escaped from the ruckus to the backyard.

The men finally found Ginny slumped against an apple tree. She was sitting cross-legged, picking at the grass. In hearing their confused approach, she tensely looked up.

"Ginny." Ron said cautiously, pointing back at her house. "What's going on?"

As her brothers joined her on the ground, she haltingly explained the insane tale.

Ron let out a low whistle at the end. "That's—that's ah—"

"Exactly like Boy Wonder." George finished.

"Yeah! Exactly." Ron shook his head in amazement. This didn't seem to help Ginny much. "This is totally a thing that'd happen to him. It'll be fine."

Ginny stared at the two of them. "Ex-excuse me? My family's gone!" She said in nearly a sob. The brothers looked at each other in vague panic. "They vanished into thin air. Why, why'd I ever allow that thing in my home?"

"Come on Gin-Gin, it'll be okay." George patted her back, sending flabbergasted looks to Ron as the sobs grew. "It's like they're on vacation. So you can lay back and chill too. Have some me time."

Ginny gave a loud sob.

"So, ignore what George just said." Ron said hurriedly, wanting to get far away from emotions and crying women. "You said Hermione knows about this? That's great, I'm sure she's fixing it right up."

"She can't!" Ginny put her face in her hands. "There's only one time-turner."

Ron brightened. That was all? "That's the problem? I can totally fix this."

George and Ginny both stared at him, even the sobbing slowing.

"So Britain's time-turners were destroyed awhile back." Ron skipped over the part that he'd helped break them (since it'd really been Harry's doing). "But other countries have them. Like Germany!" He paused, considering. "Or no, France actually. France is less scary. The French Ministry will absolutely have them. Now, I know what you're going to say," he held up a hand, stopping a nonexistent interruption, "that this is top secret stuff that countries don't share. But they don't need to share it; we'll steal it. Simple."

George scratched his ear. "Brother of mine, there's a problem with that."

Ron waved this away. "It's only breaking into the French Ministry, no big. I'm sure it'll be nothing compared to—"

"I swear to Merlin," Ginny gritted out, apparently feeling better, "if you mention that you broke into Gringotts one more time…"

"—it's nothing compared to breaking into Gringotts." Ron gave her an exaggerated wink as she groaned. "But seriously, it's no sweat. What, they'll throw baguettes at us?"

"The problem," George sat back with a shaking head, "is that you don't listen."

"What? I listen."

"Ginny said this time-turner goes back years."

"Yeah," Ron said slowly, "I heard her. Which is why we steal a time-turner that also goes back years."

"Which isn't possible." George pointed out.

Ron puffed. "It's possible."

"Oh, I'm sorry," George said sarcastically, "were you the one who worked on Ten-Second Pimple Vanishers and Eras-a-day Eggnog? Because if you were you'd know basic time magic, and know time-turners can't go back years."

"This one did!"

"It was experimental!" George shot back.

"_So we'll experiment on one!_" Ron exclaimed.

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever…" George paused. "Oh. Wait, that's a point. We could do that."

"See?" Ron turned triumphantly to a stunned Ginny. "It's no problem. We'll steal a time-turner, do insane experiments on it, and find the missing Potters and mini-Malfoy." Another thought occurred to him. "Hey, do we know when they are?"

"That's the entire problem!" Ginny cried out. "Besides, you aren't experimenting with them. Don't be daft."

"It wouldn't be a problem—"

"Enough of my family has vanished!" Ginny shouted, stopping both brothers in their tracks. Then she started crying again.

Ron and George exchanged a terrified glance.

"_Call Angelina?_" Ron whispered to his brother. George shook his head.

"_Calming draught in my pocket_."

"_Oh yeah, do that_. Ginny?" Ron said back in his normal voice. The woman had been sobbing and hadn't paid attention to their whispers. "George's going to get you some tea. Right? A very strong tea?"

"Right." George said weakly, quickly getting up. "I'll be right back."

* * *

As the clock chimed down the time after the incident, the Potters' home became packed. From Aurors, Unspeakables, to assorted family, it became hard to move on most of the first floor. Which was the scene that met Hermione and Draco. One _sonorus_ later from her and multiple hexes from him, and they'd cleared a path through the hallway.

After this she led him to the living room. He couldn't believe what had happened and the mess that was in front of him. The room was in disarray. Every piece of furniture had been swept to the walls and there was a thin layer of sand on every surface. The Ministry had warded off most of the room. Witches and wizards were rushing around it carefully—getting evidence? Conducting diagnosis? At any rate, the moment he'd thought of it as a 'crime scene' he'd started swaying on his feet. Hermione noticed this and gently tugged the man away with a comment about getting a drink.

He wanted something much stronger than water, but it was something. The woman had then left the kitchen, which was a relief. He preferred to be alone with his thoughts. He wanted to collapse against the kitchen table, trying to forget the crime scene in the other room.

Scorpius was gone. The statement sunk into Draco as he gazed blankly at the kitchen wall. His son, his baby, was lost somewhere. All his thoughts of perhaps contacting barristers, business partners, or even the goblins…all useless. Hopeless. He was stuck following the Ministry.

Following the incompetent people who'd lost his son in the first place.

His worries wove in and out, his chest tightening, as he hated every decision he'd made. Why hadn't he warned Scorpius more explicitly about the Potters? Why had he turned in the time-turner? Why hadn't he insisted Albus always come to the Manor? Why hadn't he told his son that he loved him so much more? Hugged him roughly but soundly, making sure the boy never doubted how much he cared.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he spun around. He marginally calmed down in seeing Astoria.

"I'm sorry I took so long." She said apologetically as he stood. "It took some time to find it."

Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders and lightly kissed her. "You left me with the horde of Weasleys." He said jokingly. But he then sighed. "No news. I heard that Potter and some of her family's in the backyard. Or Potter's upstairs, dosed up on calming potion? I can never tell if those people are joking."

Astoria frowned, looking towards the staircase. Her question was clear. "Is she—"

"Screaming her lungs out? Having a mental breakdown? Drugged with sleeping draught? Who knows." Draco looked at her closely. "You _do_ have a plan?"

Astoria smiled, kissing him again. "I have a plan," she murmured between their lips. "Somewhat."

"Merlin, I love you." He hesitated. "This necessitates us going into the backyard?"

"They won't bite."

"You don't know enough Weasleys."

* * *

After a rapid check on the living room to grab Granger-Weasley, the three made their way outside. Draco could hear the small group before he saw them sitting on the grass. He was surprised there weren't more of them, and that Ginny Potter wasn't there. He was also nearly amused when they fell silent in spotting them.

One figure jumped up and raced to them. "Astoria, Draco!" The woman flung her arms around Astoria. "I'm so incredibly sorry. What can I do to help?"

Astoria smiled weakly, pulling away. "We're still working it out. Thanks love."

Audrey Weasley spun sympathetically to Draco. "We have absolutely everyone on this. We'll find Scorpius, you'll see."

"Thank you Audrey." Draco said stiffly, eyeing the Weasleys behind her untrustingly. Yes, Potter wasn't there. There was Audrey's husband, Ron Weasley, and…

"Blimey Audrey," George Weasley spoke up, "I always forget you're friends with…ah…" a few of the others sent him pointed looks or glares, "the family who have a missing son. Right. Sorry about that."

"Thank you George." Granger-Weasley said testily. "Now, is everyone aware of what has happened?"

"Impossible time-travel and five missing people." Said Percy Weasley, looking uncomfortable sitting on the grass. "Do we know what caused the time-turner to go off?"

Draco nostrils flared, wanting to stop any accusations right from the start. "If any of you blame my son for this—"

He was interrupted by snorts from the assorted Weasleys.

"Look Malfoy," Ron's hand wafted in the air, looking far more relaxed on the ground, "I don't like you. But this mess has the Potters written all over it. On that note, take a seat. There's plenty of grass for all of us."

Percy nodded seriously. "I'd wager a bet that it was Lily."

"Nah," Ron leaned back, arms now outstretched, "Albus. He's seemed peeved at Harry the past few weeks."

"You lot are crazy, it was clearly James. A prank gone wrong, no doubt." George scoffed.

"It could have been Harry himself." Audrey mused. "Not that he'd do it on purpose, mind you. But this is exactly his sort of luck."

"HOW ARE YOU BLOODY WELL CALM?" Draco roared, causing the rest to halt. "MY SON IS LOST IN TIME!"

An awkward pause descended.

Hermione coughed, having sat down during the conversation. "Of course. It's just that…we're rather…we're used to this sort of situation. If Harry wasn't with them I'd be far more concerned. But this is—"

"Typical Potter luck." Ron nodded sagely, agreeing with his wife.

"I see." Astoria spoke up. Draco was mildly surprised she'd been alright with his outburst. She took a twisting seat, pulling him down with her (at least it wasn't on actual mud). "That aside, I believe I have a clue as to where in time they went to. I—" she trailed off, spotting something by the house.

Draco turned and saw Ginny Potter approaching them, unsteady on her feet. A few of her brothers began to stand but stopped at her look.

"Whoever gave me calming and sleeping stuff," Ginny said in an odd voice, "that's, that's not…fair. Meanies."

"_Goddamn it George_." Ron muttered.

"What?" George said right back. "You said to make it strong."

"What did you—never mind." Hermione quickly got up and helped a swaying Ginny over to the group. "How are you feeling? I can bring you back upstairs?"

"No." Ginny made a swatting motion. "No. News? Is there news?"

Hermione swallowed, shaking her head. "We were just about to discuss that."

Ginny slumped onto the grass, not paying attention to much. Rubbing her eyes, it was as though all the energy had left her. She caught sight of the Malfoys and her hand cringed to her mouth, eyes widening. Suddenly the calm shifted to dazed guilt. "_I am so sorry!_ You entrusted your son to our care and I—and they—I know it means nothing, but I'm so sorry. I, I can't begin to say how much I…I'm sorry. I don't know what I can do to help."

Draco's anger fidgeted in the face of Ginny's miserable figure. Astoria looked equally miserable and was peering at the Potter with sympathy.

"I agreed to have that, that _thing_ in my house!" Ginny gave a self-deprecating laugh. Some of the potion seemed to be wearing off. "Harry thought it'd be safest there, behind our wards and whatnot. He wouldn't have taken it out, but oh, it must have been one of my kids. They know they aren't supposed to go into their dad's office! Merlin knows we're lenient with other things—I'm sure there's still some hinkypuffs hiding in the kitchen cupboards—but they know that."

There was an intensely awkward silence.

Astoria coughed. "I have no intention to throw blame around. I want to find my son, that's all. To that end, I was just about to say I think I have a clue." Draco was thrilled to see the slight frown on her lips; she was plotting, which meant she was about to say something brilliant. "Some of you know I'm an Unspeakable. My specialty is in time magic, which was partly why we'd turned this time-turner into the Ministry in the first place. I mention all of this so that you take what I'm about to say with the utmost seriousness." She paused. "There was a highly odd occurrence in my childhood. It may point to a solution to this."

Audrey frowned in concern. "I'm sorry, but with an alternative timeline—"

"Croaker's Exception." Astoria cut in.

Audrey stopped, eyes widening. "Ah. That would do it. Do you think Harry knew about the loophole?"

"You know the man far better than I do." Astoria clicked her tongue. "Whatever the case, when I was 14—the summer of 1995—I received a strange note. It appeared on my bedside table one morning. I never told anyone about it, because frankly? It makes me look crazy. But I kept it and then found it when I heard about this disaster." She took an aged, folded parchment from her pocket. "The note told me to get regular check-ups for my blood disease. It was signed 'The Doctor'."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Doctor who?"

"Precisely." Astoria smiled. "I've always been a fan of the show."

"Blood disease?" Draco asked instead, staring at his wife. "It's a minor condition, what does that have to do with anything?"

Astoria's smile faltered. "I can only guess. But if I hadn't gotten it regularly checked on, it's a genetic disease that could have become serious. I hated Healers when I was a child and made up every excuse I could to avoid them. This note changed that because I was intrigued, as well as scared."

Draco took her hand, mind whirling with unpleasant possibilities. "How bad could it have gotten?"

"You aren't sick, it's fine." Came a brusque voice. "Can we get back to the impossible note and what loophole you're talking about?"

Draco glared at the interruption. "Weasley…"

Ron raised his hands. "I'm not trying to be insensitive. But you seem healthy and we want to get our families back. About this note, why 'doctor'? Wouldn't it have said 'Healer'?"

"Doctor Who." Astoria answered simply.

"Doctor wh—"

"It's a muggle tv show about time travel." Hermione was looking at Astoria hopefully. "I haven't thought of it in ages, but I loved it when I was younger."

"As did I." Astoria smiled warmly, handing the note over to her and Ginny. But when she saw it Ginny frowned.

"That's not Harry's handwriting."

"It's Scorpius' penmanship." Astoria said and Draco drew in a rattling breath. "So that's the question. What is my 'future' son doing writing me a warning note in 1995?"

"1995?" Percy said weakly.

"That's terrifying." Ron agreed. "I don't get this time travel thing, but shouldn't that be impossible? Different timelines and stuff? Err, are there timelines? Audrey mentioned timelines."

"I did. But this doesn't apply to Croaker's Exception." Audrey said excitedly. "The Exception is a small loophole in time travel. There are two established rules: that if one travels back five hours or less the timeline can remain intact, while anything more than five hours almost positively makes an alternative future. The Exception occurs when you combine the two."

"Picture yourself as a time traveler." Astoria caught up the explanation. "You've just arrived in the 1990s. You want to deliver a message to your future to your loved ones. The solution? You could quickly time travel again." She was met with mystified looks. "If Mr. Potter almost immediately used another time-turner to travel back _less_ than five hours, any message he left could be found in both timelines."

A stunned silence hit the group.

Hermione awkwardly cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, but there's no way Harry would have known to do that."

"He's done weirder things when we were in a fix." Ron said to her quietly.

"Utilising an obscure time magic law?"

"I don't mean he'd know it was an actual thing!" Ron chuckled. "Just that he'd accidentally do it."

"I don't see it." Hermione turned back to the others. "Harry has no interest in studying time travel. He wouldn't have come up with this."

"Would Scorpius have known?" Ginny asked them earnestly. "I know he's a teenager, but he did write the note."

Astoria hesitated before shaking her head. "There's a chance, he does like listening to my stories. But this is highly obscure. Which leads to the question: how could they have come up with this? Someone must have told them within the five hour window."

Audrey rubbed her chin. "Unless they fell into a horde of Unspeakables, I don't know how they'd come up with this."

"Isn't it obvious?" Draco found himself asking, surprised when everyone gave him questioning stares. "Potter went to Dumbledore."

"Ohhh," George gave a low exhale, "that'd do it."

"No! No, it wouldn't." Ginny was looking at all of them, startled and still off-balanced. "There's no way Harry would've contacted Dumbledore."

Hermione blinked at her. "It does make sense."

"Except it doesn't!" Ginny mainly faced the Malfoys. "There's a long story behind this, but I wouldn't trust Albus Dumbledore in the slightest. Harry isn't as extreme, but he has huge issues with the man. There's no way he'd put our children anywhere near him!"

Draco nearly gaped at the woman. "Are we talking about the same Boy Wonder? In fact," he shook his head, "you named your son after Dumbledore."

Ginny's expression darkened, the calming potion clearing. "Because _Harry_," she said the name pointedly, "only told me all about Dumbledore after we'd already named Albus. I don't think Harry thought I'd be as furious as I was, though I've been making him see the light."

Many of them were looking strangely at Ginny. Ron in particular seemed shocked. "What's this about Dumbledore? You never even talk about the bloke."

"Because I don't want Albus to hear." Ginny said, exasperated. "That'd be a great conversation. 'Yes sweetie, I accidentally named you after a bastard who repeatedly hurt and tried to murder your dad'." She groaned. Draco got the sense that she was still woozy from the potion. "Don't get me started on Dumbledore. Harry wouldn't have sought him out."

Everyone else exchanged stunned looks.

"I see?" Astoria scratched her ear, more confused than anything. "For now, let's assume they somehow stumbled upon Croaker's Exception. So Scorpius likely gave Mr. Potter the note for me, he traveled back another five hours, left it by my bed, and…? Also, could Mr. Potter have even gotten a second, regular time-turner?"

"He'd have stolen it." Ron waved this away.

Draco waited for someone to protest this, but no one did. "Excuse me?" He asked weakly.

"Do you know how much illegal stuff we've done?" Ron froze at a look from his wife. "That is, that we _used_ to do? Harry could absolutely steal a time-turner in under five hours."

Astoria was also looking faintly amazed. "Alright then," she said slowly. "Mr. Potter 'produces' another time-turner, leaves me a note, and…"

"…he'd also leave me a note." Ginny finished, eyes widening. "Except I didn't get anything like that in 1995."

"Unless it was meant for you or us, now." Hermione tapped her fingers against her knee. "Harry could have hidden a message. But, all that aside? This means we know when they traveled back to, within five hours."

"We know what night they traveled back to. Ah, I believe." Astoria corrected. "I only found the note when I woke up that morning."

"Scorpius is still in an alternative timeline!" Draco spoke up. "As 'interesting' as it is to know he's in a war zone, none of this can help get him back. Is that even possible?!"

"I may have an idea for that," Audrey said slowly, "though it'll require a few more things. It's very good we know what time they're in. Do we know their location?"

"Apart from my childhood bedroom?" Astoria said. "Not at all."

"If there's a second note, that information may be in it." Hermione looked at Audrey hopefully. "What else do you need?"

"Apart from a hope and a prayer?" Audrey shrugged. "A second time-turner that could go back decades."

There was an awful silence.

"Until then? We need to figure out where Harry would have left a second note." Hermione said simply.

For the umpteenth time that day, Draco silently cursed having met Potter. Even when the man wasn't here, he made everything irritating.

* * *

In a relatively quiet moment (when everyone had scattered to brainstorm how to invent or steal time-turners, or where in Britain Harry could have left a message), Ron grabbed Hermione and pulled her into the miraculously empty kitchen.

"I should get back to the Ministry." She said as the door closed. "We need to make sure this information gets where it needs to."

"Everything and everyone important's here. Besides, do we really want this getting out?" He dismissed. Then his voice lowered. "How bad is this?"

"Bad."

"On a measure from, 'Did Hagrid name a deadly three-headed dog Fluffy?', to, 'Did the Potter kids actually burn down Buckingham Palace?' where would this fall?"

Hermione considered this for a moment. "This would be right around, 'Harry tried to kill himself _because a horcrux was in his head?_'"

Ron gave a low whistle. "Huh. That's bad."

"Yes, this is bad."

They were silent for a comfortable while.

Ron coughed. "Just to address the nundu in the room: do you think Harry did this?"

"On purpose? Of course he didn't."

"You sound pretty sure…"

"His kids were also caught up in this."

He stopped instantly. "Riiight, never mind then. Horrifying Potter luck?"

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "Yes, horrifying Potter luck."

"That took them back to the start of the Second War."

"Exactly."

* * *

The daylight faded, the people scattered, and the clocks wound closer and closer to midnight.

At the Burrow, many of the Weasley adults were having a frantic meeting.

Upstairs at the Burrow, a crowd of children were trying to find out what was going on. All day they'd been shuffled from one relative's house to another without any answers. Then they'd been flooed to the Burrow with overnight bags and left with firm instructions not to eavesdrop on them in the living room. Their parents scurried off and the kids quickly found out that, yes, they actually couldn't overhear anything.

With this failure, they made their way to the attic. Far from being a small or dark place, it was brightly lit and big enough for all of them (which was an accomplishment in itself). Over the years couches and various games had become scattered through the area. The kids had also snuck in their own addition, from contraband under loose floorboards to a massive betting book under a false couch cushion.

Which was how Fred found himself leaning against the wall, watching his cousins loudly discuss and compare what was going on. There seemed to be a general confusion tonight. Still, the one thing he was most wondering about? Where his best friend was. Whenever family meetings happened, James and he were supposed to eavesdrop (while Roxanne either try to stop them or join their idiocy). Or they'd sneak out. Or they'd sneak in Firewhisky. Or James would do something stupid like set loose a herd of nifflers. Or Fred would turn the second floor into a swamp.

At any rate, James being gone wasn't a good sign. His siblings also weren't here. Which, hey, maybe the Potters just hadn't arrived yet. But this didn't bode well.

"ALRIGHT!" Fred shouted out over the room at the mess of Weasley kids and teenagers. He stood on a chair, looking around as seriously as he could. "EVERYONE, SHUT UP. There we go. You know the drill. 30 galleons to anyone who definitely knows what this is about, or 10 to whoever guesses the closest."

Louis cleared his throat. "This could just be a Burrow sleepover?"

"It's never just a sleepover." Rose scoffed. "M'mum and dad are super nervous. Mum doesn't get nervous."

"Dad didn't make a joke all evening." Hugo agreed with his sister. "Something's up."

"Well, there's the obvious thing wrong." Fred rolled his eyes at his cousins' confused glances. "Does anyone see a Potter here?"

Everyone looked around, confusion not abating.

"That's not good." Roxanne nibbled her lip. "Has anyone seen them today?"

Silence bounded.

"Teddy was downstairs." Victoire said in faint confusion. "He was concerned about something and said he needed to get details."

"So we're all called to the Burrow, our parents are having a super secret meeting downstairs, the Potters aren't here, and Teddy seems to be the only one they're telling." Fred frowned. "You don't think this is, you know. Serious serious? Like, 'Man Who Conquered' serious?"

"We would've heard about that." Roxanne said uncertainly. "If it was something very bad, our parents would be more worried."

Rose's lips thinned. "Oh-kay, new bet. I'm putting ten galleons on this being Albus' fault."

Louis choked on air. "Al?"

"He's been acting weird!" Rose said defensively. "Like, he's had all these problems lately with Uncle Harry. This could be a prank gone wrong."

"Nah, it's James." Fred spoke up. "Have you met the bloke? If it's some chaos that's gotten all our relatives in a frenzy, James is behind it. I bet he finally brought home a dragon."

"Albus? James?" Roxanne looked at them all oddly. "If it's one of the kids, it's obviously Lily. Because what if the Prophet got wind of her craziness?" Her concern grew. "Or, what if she finally went all Dark Lordy?"

This shut the cousins up.

"So Lily's gone insane," Louis said shakily, "and our family's trying to reign in the explosions?"

"Sounds about right." Hugo scratched his head. "I figured I could convince Lily to give me France when she takes over. Do you think she'll—"

"Non." Victoire gave him a look. "I have dibs on France and Brussels. Both Lily and Uncle Harry promised."

Hugo grumbled. "Germany?"

"Go for it." She paused. "As an aside, maybe we should stop joking about this."

"Then I'm getting France."

Molly waved a hand for attention. "I think we're missing the point? No one's seen Uncle Harry. With all the stories, isn't he the most likely one to have done something?" There were a few queasy looks. "We've all heard the stories. What if this is something like that?"

"My parents are here." Hugo said. "If something was going on, there's no way they'd be left behind. Maybe this is innocent and the Potters are on a trip."

"With a big family meeting at the Burrow, complete with secretive adults?" Rose said, unconvinced. "Something's up." She paled at a sudden thought. She bounced up and down on her feet. "OH! Oh oh oh, sweet Dumbledore, no wonder mum's panicking."

The others sent her a wary glance. "You know," Roxanne said, "any time you want to clue us in—"

"THERE'S A TIME-TURNER." Rose exclaimed, hands now over her mouth. "Mum an' Uncle Harry have it, this is so bad, oh my gosh no!"

"A time-turner?" Hugo looked at his sister weirdly. "They used one again? It's not a big deal."

"It's so a big deal."

Hugo rolled his eyes. "Mum's explained the whole thing. Whatever happens was always gonna happen. So if the Potters went a couple hours back—"

Rose grabbed her brother. "Experimental time-turner," she hissed. "It goes back years. Breaks Croaker's Law."

Hugo's eyes widened as their cousins stared. "No way."

"Yes way."

"Mum had this?"

"Yes!"

"How'd you know?"

"I'm a good guesser! They confiscated it, sort of."

Hugo was now concerned. "So you think the Potters…oh boy."

Louis spoke up for the rest of them. "What're you talking about?"

"Croaker's Law." Rose said hurriedly. "Experimental time-turner."

Fred sighed at the two of them. "For those of us not raised by Aunt Hermione, could you explain what obscure MLE law you're talking about?"

"It's not an MLE law." Hugo said weakly. "It's a magical theory law. Croaker figured that if you go back in time more than 24—"

"5." Rose corrected.

"—5 hours, the timeline's likely to change. But it's like, theoretical, because normal time-turners can't actually do that."

The cousins were still staring in confusion.

"Okay, look." Rose said in frustration. "Y'know the story of when my mum got a time-turner to go to classes?"

The cousins exchanged knowing, fond, and incredulous glances.

Fred nodded. "Where they used it to rescue Sirius Black?"

"Exactly. After we heard the story, Hugo and I asked the obvious questions."

"Obvious questions?"

"Why didn't they change more stuff?" Hugo shrugged. "Someone dies? No big, go back 5 hours and save them."

"That's when mum—" Rose paused, "actually, sorry. That's when m'dad explained they couldn't. The past was set in stone. The only reason Sirius Black and the cute hippogriff could be rescued was because they were always going to be rescued."

"This doesn't matter." Hugo turned back to his sister. "You're saying there's a time-turner that goes back years, and that Uncle Harry has access to it? Or _had_ access?"

"Yes."

"We're screwed!" Hugo groaned. "When d'ya reckon he went back to?"

Rose shrugged, looking helpless. "Maybe Uncle Harry didn't—"

"He absolutely did." Hugo rubbed his eyes. "I'm betting he's killing Voldemort when Tom Riddle was a baby."

"What?" Rose squawked. "Uncle Harry wouldn't go back in time for that! He's much more likely to be saving his parents."

Hugo gave her a weird look. "Hello, weird mother protective magic?"

Rose huffed, annoyed now. "So he'll save his dad."

Hugo paused. "Okay, I could see that."

"But he wouldn't do any of that!" Rose gestured at her brother, peeved now. "Y'know why?"

"Why? I mean, mum would murder him..."

"Because Uncle Harry's not the only one missing." Rose exclaimed. "If this had been on purpose, you think he'd have brought his kids?"

Louis cleared his throat. "We don't actually know if they're all gone?"

"Come on, they would've resurfaced." Fred was frowning. "I definitely didn't follow all of that. But, you're talking about accidental time-travel?"

"Yes!"

"Ho-ley Dumbledore."


	5. Dizzying Divination

**A/N:** Anyone else watching the Netflix series 'Dark'? It's a brilliant German show (English subtitles) about doomsday and time travel! Rather confusing time travel. I took some inspiration for this chapter, because oh boy did I create paradoxes. If you want a laugh, check out my attempt to reconcile "Harry Potter"'s nonsense time travel laws in the ending A/N.

* * *

"Yesterday, today and tomorrow are not consecutive, they are connected in a never-ending circle. Everything is connected."

~ The Stranger, 'Dark'

* * *

It was an odd party that made their way out of the living room. The time travellers had been released from their binds. Harry had a firm grip on his daughter's hand (whether to keep her safe or to keep the scowling girl from attacking Sirius was anyone's guess) and sent the three boys pointed looks whenever they drifted 'too far away'.

Albus and Scorpius kept trying to shove the other one into the lead. James took little notice of his family, too busy gawking at the scene around him. Because an even odder group circled them: Dumbledore was up front and taking delighted glances back, Molly had on a contagious beam and would have been peppering them with questions if not for Arthur, while Sirius lagged behind, his expression unseen to the newcomers. Severus Snape had made a rapid exit following the Veritaserum, leaving no doubt that he was highly allergic to Potters.

When they opened the door to the kitchen, each teenager (sitting calmly at the table) turned with mild curiosity to face them. Dumbledore seemed taken aback they weren't immediately jumped with questions. In contrast, Molly and Harry groaned in instant realisation. Arthur chuckled.

Molly stormed forward, wagging a finger at her chagrined children. "Unbelievable, the lot of you!"

Harry wondered if his guilt had been as transparent when he'd been a teen. "Your innocent expressions are awful. Also, Ginny? An Extendable Ear's falling out of your pocket. Go on then. How much did you overhear?"

There was a sheepish silence. Molly furiously summoned the device, eliciting a shriek from her daughter as it almost took her cardigan with it.

"Err, Mr. Potter?" Hermione squeaked. As one, every teenager jerked their heads towards her.

"_Mr. Potter?_" Ron gaped. "Are you mad!"

"What should we call him?" she answered back in a whisper, not taking her stare off of the time-travellers.

"Not 'Mr. Potter'! Mental, you are."

As his kids snickered Harry cast his gaze to the ceiling, willing for patience. "Ron, Hermione? Is this the most important thing?"

Hermione flushed, ducking her head. "Right, yes. Priorities. You asked how much we overheard? Which we, we weren't eavesdropping or anything. It was fairly loud and—"

Ginny prodded her, pointing at the Extendable Ear in her mother's tight fist. Hermione fell silent.

Dumbledore stepped in, bemused at the unfolding scene. "Overheard conversations noted, I imagine you are aware we have unexpected guests." Nods from all around. The Headmaster turned to Harry with a questioning look. "I do not believe everyone has been properly introduced. Mr. Potter?"

Harry let out a low breath, swinging his gaze around the room. He was still holding on tightly to Lily. "Before I say more: I don't know how time travel works and I'm scared stiff about changing anything. That's likely inevitable now, but I'm not adding to the mess. So I'm only telling you relatively innocent things. Nothing about the war, nothing about my wife, and nothing about actual things in the future."

All hung onto his every word.

"My name's Harry Potter. These are my sons James and Albus, my daughter Lily, and Scorpius Malfoy, Albus' best friend." There were intensely curious stares throughout this (only heightening with the last name). "This was an accident. We didn't mean to come here and all we want to do is return home. I'll be working on that but, until then, I want to make one thing clear." He turned his attention to the adults, gaze hardening. "All four kids are under my care and nothing is going to happen to them. I already have qualms about staying here even momentarily. If there's a whiff of trouble we're racing far away from Britain."

Silence met his blunt statement. Scorpius gulped while Albus patted his back, smiling at him.

"Away from Britain?" Fred repeated in amazement. "I thought you were joking in there! So what, you have kids. What'd you run away for?"

He was talking to Fred Weasley. Harry tightened his grip on Lily, talking in a strained voice. "Imagine what'd happen if Voldemort found out I have kids. Do you remember what happened to my parents?" The teenager's haughty expression turned into a wince, especially at Voldemort's name. "If there's any danger, I promise you won't be able to find us."

Hermione made a small squeak.

"Mister P—"

"Hermione," Harry turned to his younger best friend without patience, "I'm already having a horrible day. So I'm sorry, but don't make this even more awkward."

She gulped, nodding. "When are you going to tell your younger self?"

'When hell freezes over', was Harry's immediate thought. He was saved from answering when Molly tutted.

"I daresay all of you know too much!" She chided at the teenagers. "Really, eavesdropping like this? _We have guests_. Can you not act like heavens!"

Harry coughed awkwardly, especially at the word 'guests'. Ah well, that was the least of his problems. "I don't mind."

"I do." Molly narrowed her eyes at her children. "All of you lot, upstairs!"

"MUM!"

"What? It's Harry!"

"What're you on about, woman?"

Came the immediate cries from the various Weasleys. Ginny had even half-stood, a fiery expression on her face.

"You are all too young." Molly tsked at them. "This is a sensitive situation, not one you can go trampling on!"

"MUM!" Came even louder cries.

"Did I stutter?" Molly tutted. Harry was too damn tired to deal with this.

"Guys? I'm confused beyond anything." Harry said, silencing the teenagers. "We'll fill you in on things later. But for now, could my family and I _please_ get some breathing room?"

This stopped the protests in their tracks. Though there were still some grumbles, Fred, George, and Ginny left the room. Ron seemed planted in place, until Hermione hissed something in his ear and pulled the reluctant boy to his feet. She gave a strained smile to Harry as they left.

"Dear," Molly said carefully as the door closed and the weary time-travellers took seats, "would you prefer if any of us left as well? Or, would you like any tea? Food?"

Harry couldn't even think about that as he slouched into a seat. Since none of the kids answered, he assumed they were of a similar mind.

"Perhaps in a minute." The Headmaster said delicately as he sat at the table. Molly nodded, putting an imperturbable charm on the door. "While this is a truly remarkable matter—one we will certainly be unraveling for quite some time—I believe we are running on a deadline on the current main issue."

Harry stared at Dumbledore blankly. One issue? There were hundreds, thousands of 'issues'! Weirdly, the least of which was that he was talking to a not-dead man and that his also not-dead godfather was gawking at him across the table. Still. A deadline?

Dumbledore patiently explained. "I take it you have no desire to further disrupt the time stream."

Abso-bloody-lutely.

"This leaves you with two options." The Headmaster voiced. "You could obliviate us all. As some have already left, that may be difficult. Especially if you believe a flick of a butterfly's wing could alter the future."

Harry continued staring blankly, a new sense of dread bubbling up. His head was already pounding and he knew nothing about time magic. Were they about to discuss paradoxes? Why hadn't Hermione taken the blasted time-turner!

"There is the second option," Dumbledore said kindly, "which is to go about your merry way, knowing that your future is likely secure. Though this would assume a multi-worlds theory rather than a stagnant timeline."

This was 'confusing paradox' territory. Harry swallowed nervously, out of his depth. "Uh," he said, "what are we assuming?"

"That there are multiple futures." Scorpius squeaked instead, sounding intrigued but infinitely nervous. "That even if we change something in THIS past, our original future remains untouched! Though we'd be on the path to the wrong future. Which is bad."

"Uh," Sirius said in identical confusion to Harry's 'uh', looking just as overwhelmed, "I think I'm following? So you can change things."

"We aren't changing things!" Harry yelped, knowing at least this. "I get it, tiny changes can impact the future. Which we've already done. But I'm not shifting anything big, the future's a good one!"

"Hi, Mister Dumbledore?" Lily piped in, swiftly cutting off all else. "M'dad gets weird about the war." Harry sent her an exasperated glance, wondering not for the first time if he was too lenient with his kids. "Can we go back to the time stuff? We didn't explode our future, right? There are lots of people there I don't want exploded." She turned to her dad. "Mum and Teddy are okay? Snuffles?"

"I'm sure they're all fine." Harry said soothingly, his previous thoughts fleeing as he patted his daughter's head. "It's us who're in some trouble." Maybe he shouldn't have said that last part. Arthur was sending him a fond look. It took Harry a moment to realise it was simply for acting like a father. He hated time travel.

James frowned. "Lily's right. Who's to say we're creating a second future or whatever. What if we're messing with OUR future? Dad!"

"Kids, you need to calm down—"

"All the Weasleys!" Albus yelped in panic. "We've killed the Weasleys! OUR version of them, which is basically the same. What about mum? Teddy and Andy?"

"Who's Andy?" Sirius frowned. Oh, Harry was going nowhere near that.

"I'm sure you haven't killed us." Arthur was saying to the teenager kindly. "It was Albus, yes?"

Harry tried to reign this in before the fear infected the rest of the room. "Everything will be fine. No one's being killed. Your mum's fine, the family's fine, everyone is—"

He was distracted by someone frantically waving his hands.

"YO, HEY!" Scorpius cried out before resitting as everyone shut up. "The future's totally good. No need to panic." He then remembered who he was talking to and flushed. "Err, Mr. Potter. Sir. Sorry, sir."

Harry stared, mouth dropping open. "How are we good?"

"Cause of us?" Scorpius waved around at the three Potter siblings and himself. He was met with blank stares. "No one's following? Right, thoughts spiralling off into nonsense without the main point. I do that all the time, nasty habit."

Arthur was squinting at him. "No offence meant lad. But you are a Malfoy, yes?"

"A bubbly Malfoy." Harry answered tiredly. "Yeah, I know."

Arthur seemed more amused than anything. "Good show."

"Scorpius," Albus said in a world-weary tone, "if you could get to the part about how we aren't destroying the future?"

"I've been thinking about it since I was like, 'holy Dumbledore, there's Dumbledore!'" Scorpius eyed the elderly wizard in consternation. "Which is maybe what you meant by 'assuming' the multi-worlds theory? Back to the point, mum's always on about time travel theories. Loves a good closed time loop, mum does. Anyway," he said to the impatient stares, "I was freaking out earlier because of thinking we were going to bring about an inferi apocalypse or some such—mum's favourite horror story—but then something didn't happen so, yeah. I'm not worried anymore. I mean, I'm plenty worried. But not worried about us changing the future."

There was a low silence. Then Arthur gave a burst of laughter, smiling gently at the nervous boy.

Harry took a deep breath, gathering all his patience. "Scorpius, what exactly didn't happen?"

"We didn't disappear," Scorpius replied, again gesturing at the kids. "Means my parents had me at exactly the same time, you had those three at the same time, and we all traveled back in time at the same time. None of that could've happened if we'd set off a paradoxical inferi doomsday! Well, it probably wouldn't happen. But look, see, what if us coming back here couldn't erase _our_ future, since it'd erase us coming back and changing the future? So what if us coming back created a _different_ future like Headmaster Dumbledore said. Our future's still cool, we're just on the wrong track for it. It would explain why we haven't disappeared."

Dumbledore twinkled. "Quite right, young Mister Malfoy. Since you are still here, you didn't change the future enough to alter you being here."

Albus frowned. "I guess I could see that. So mum and everyone's alright? We didn't create an apocalypse?"

"No one's making an apocalypse." Harry tried to nip this in the bud. But he turned to Scorpius with a smile. "Still, that's as good a theory as any. I'll happily take it."

Molly was frowning contemplatively. "But wouldn't this alone have changed something? It's a large hint about the future that Harry survived and had children. I'm very glad for that, but still."

Sirius was nodding. "Means Voldemort didn't off him, for starters."

"_Sirius!_" Molly snapped, wincing slightly at the name.

"Pardon Harry, Molly. But I'm right, aren't I?" Sirius shook his head, sending Harry a weak grin. "I'm extremely glad you're alive, but it's a big thing to know. Also, you had children? There's no way Voldemort is still around."

Dumbledore cleared his voice, making everyone start. "I believe the issue of changing the future isn't pertinent at the moment. The pressing concern is that all of you," he gestured at the time-travellers, "are currently on the path to your 'wrong' future."

Harry bit his lip. "There's a second time-turner that we could, eventually, get. But there's no telling if it would send us home." Honestly, it probably wouldn't.

Dumbledore sat back thoughtfully. "Mr. Potter, are you aware of the Department of Mystery's endeavours in your time?"

"Not in the least."

"If there exists a time-turner that could go back years…" he mused. "Young Mr. Malfoy, you mentioned your mother worked with time as an Unspeakable?"

"Yes sir."

"That belies there could be decades of additional research development." Dumbledore almost thought to himself, tapping a finger on his chin. "Further innovations could be present that none of us would be aware of. Mr. Potter," his voice rose to a normal volume, "I hope this is not crass. But I assume you are a high enough public figure that the future Ministry of Magic would work to return you and your family home?"

His kids snorted en unison. Scorpius burst out laughing before stopping himself, looking horrified.

"Still the Boy Who Lived, eh?" Sirius said, trying to catch up.

Lily giggled. "You have no idea."

James looked concerned, turning to his dad. "Britain can't go on Defcon 1, right?"

"Right." Harry replied, though was uncertain. They couldn't, that was MACUSA. But Hermione Granger-Weasley was terrifying. She was also Head of Magical Law Enforcement. If he returned and she'd invaded Poland or some nonsense… "I'm sure they aren't panicking."

"They're definitely panicking." Albus was also a bit nervous. "You don't think the Aurors, I mean, with Aunt Hermione…?"

She was absolutely going to invade Poland. Or the States. Please let her not have messed with MACUSA. "It's fine." Harry lied through his teeth. "I'm sure they won't overreact. But ah, yes Headmaster, they'd try to get us back. But—alright. _Our_ future exists. _We're_ heading to another future. Even on the off-chance our future has any idea how to get us home: how would they know 'when' we are to get us?"

Everyone stopped in their tracks, staring. Harry was barely resisting hitting his head against the table. A few others gave into the temptation.

Dumbledore picked up a pocket-watch, frowning slightly. Though he didn't seem panicked like the others. "It is now just short of two hours since you arrived. It's quite time to 'post' a message to your future contemporaries."

Harry stared. He'd never been used to Dumbledore's riddles in the first place; now they just made his head hurt.

The Headmaster took pity on him. "Current time-turners can go into the past five hours while still possibly preserving the time stream." He gently reminded them all. "As the paths for the future only diverged two hours ago, any message placed somewhere _before_ that time would be present in both hypothetical futures. I have some friends left in the Ministry. It will be difficult to procure a time-turner within a few hours, but—"

"Don't bother with that." Harry said automatically. Once the situation clicked for him, the obvious solution did as well. Did he understand time magic? Nope. But breaking into the Ministry? That he could do. "The British Ministry had rubbish security in the '90s. I mean, it 'has' rubbish security? Whatever. London's CCTV isn't even a huge thing. I could be in and out pretty quick."

"CCTV?" Arthur asked.

"Muggle device." But this only made Arthur perk up. Harry silently chided himself. "Remind me about it later."

It was Dumbledore's turn to stare at Harry in slight confusion. "Do you make a habit of breaking into the Ministry? Though, by all means, don't let me stop you."

Harry sent a pointed look at his kids to not say anything. "Let's just say I'm familiar with security systems and basic magical theft. Doing it in under three hours should be alright."

Molly merely groaned. "Do I want to ask?"

Harry hesitated, seeing that some people were eyeing him in disbelief. Surely a tiny piece of future info was worth convincing them to let him get on with it? "Through my job I've become familiar with global security systems. I know the British haven't changed their's in decades, and that they have plenty of time-turners presently."

"'Presently'?" Arthur asked about the one thing Harry hadn't meant to say.

"Dad breaks into places, whatever. There's another problem." James spoke up. Harry rolled his eyes at his bluntness. "Say you plant a message, it can reach 'either' future, great. It still means you'd be back further in the past. You were talking about multiple futures? So how d'you know you wouldn't be on the 'path' for the wrong one?"

Everyone paused, thinking over the words as hopes crinkled.

Dumbledore's twinkle hadn't faded. "There is," he began once again, "a minor theory of time-travel. It claims that within a closed time loop, if one is to know something will happen it will be 'imprinted' on time. Schrodinger's cat. For example, if you were to see your own headstone, your death—which up to that point would have been malleable—would suddenly be absolute and irreversible, aligning with the date on said headstone."

"_If I know something happens, I can do it._" Harry murmured to himself.

"What was that?"

Harry looked up at everyone's gazes. "When I was thirteen, Hermione and I travelled back in time a few hours. Before that I'd seen someone produce a Patronus. I didn't understand it the first time, but when I got 'back' there and saw the dementors I knew I could make a Patronus, because I'd already been the one to do it."

Dumbledore beamed. "Quite right."

Molly narrowed his eyes at him. "Pardon me, but you and Hermione had done what? And Harry, tell me you haven't robbed places before."

"It was just a little time trampling. Saved my and Buckbeak's necks, in fact." Sirius waved away, sounding happier then he had before. "Also, didn't you hear him? Harry's all responsible and nonsense."

Harry nearly smiled. The tone made it clear Sirius wouldn't be opposed to some robbery. Molly seemed less convinced.

Arthur was frowning at Dumbledore, confused like them all. "If I'm following this correctly, we would need proof it'll happen. Unless you think 'he' left a second message for us?"

"I don't believe so." Dumbledore was leaning back in his seat, the only one at ease. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, we should find out whether or not this time travel is possible within the next minute or so."

"Why?"

The Headmaster gave a small smile. "Because Mr. Potter is fond of dramatic entrances. Isn't that right?"

"I wouldn't say that." Came a disembodied voice from an empty corner. Instantly, numerous wands were up and pointing at it. "_Easy, EASY!_ I'm disillusioned, let me take it off."

A murmur, a tap, and the form of Harry Potter appeared. He wore the same clothes as the seated and astonished Harry, albeit the new one was more ruffled. Having ended the charm, he raised his arms and dropped his wand.

"Tell me you aren't making me go through another interrogation." 'Harry' asked Dumbledore with a grimace, taking a glance to the wand now rolling on the floor. "I'm all for security, but my head was tingling after that Veritaserum."

"You're me." Harry said beadily, staring at his counterpart. Said counterpart shrugged.

"A few hours older." A faint smile, arms still raised. "If I'd given this thought I'd have come up with a safe word to confirm my identity. But you didn't and I didn't—you still could, but I guess you won't?—so I'm going with something more embarrassing."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but the duplicate was already continuing (with a slight flush).

"First off," the doppelganger said, "because of what your mind just went to: flying harpy."

Heat also entered Harry's cheeks. Because, yes, the idea of a 'safe word' had brought up something unwanted to his mind.

"But I'm a suspicious bloke." The copy's arms were still pointed at the ceiling. "So I have to keep saying things that never made it into any of the 'memoirs'. I've been meaning to visit my Aunt for over a year. This won't happen, but her doctors were keeping me informed. I'd also been avoiding visiting a certain portrait. My wife has a tattoo of a quaffle, mine's of a golden snitch. The first time I proposed to her didn't, ah, go as planned." He made a face at the last, muttering about 'damned ring-stealing pigeons'. The present Harry full-heartedly agreed. "Anyway, that left a lasting grudge. Phobia, more like. As did the cupboard. And the smell of muggle cleaning solution. Though, thankfully, I grew fond of cooking after that. Now! If it's all the same to you, I'm not mentioning anything more specific with my kids here."

Harry let out a long breath he'd been holding. His wand was pocketed and he gestured for the others to do the same. "A few hours older, eh?"

"Yep." Arms were dropped back to his sides, wand swooped up from the floor. "It works out well. Before you ask, I don't think I can tell you anything more. 'He' didn't to me and I've been picturing Hermione yelling about how I'm 'not supposed to interact with my past self while messing with time'. Or to not mess with time in the first place." He rubbed his ear. "Don't ask me when Hermione became my inner voice for common sense."

James was staring between the two, eyebrows up high. "Just when I thought this couldn't get weirder."

Scorpius gave an almighty groan, head sinking to the table. "You Potters are so ridiculously strange…err, sorry sir. Sirs."

Albus patted his friend's shoulder consolatory. "I warned you, didn't I? But quit calling my dad 'sir'. It's too weird."

"That's what's 'too weird'?" Was Scorpius' muffled retort, head in hands.

Lily looked on as the second Harry took a seat. "Huh, two dads. Is one of you the evil twin?"

The 'new' Harry chuckled. "We're basically identical, sweetie. But I've interrupted: you were figuring out how to get a message to the past, to ultimately get to our original future? Sorry, I can't say much. My future self didn't for me and I figure there's only so many spoilers I can give before the universe cracks. Or before my head explodes from confusion. Which it's about to do."

'Present' Harry sighed, done with everything. "This is all incredibly disturbing, so you know."

"Oh, I hear you."

* * *

"Right then." Present-Harry said as much to himself (and himself) as to the others, knuckles rapping the table in thought. "So if I'm understanding this right, we need a hiding place for a message. Somewhere that will be untouched and remain unseen until the 2010s. We can't have somebody getting it too quickly."

"Or not at all." Scorpius said darkly.

"We could direct it to a person." Harry rubbed at his glasses. "Hermione. She's most likely to think to look for a message. So I need to think like her older self. Or, what _she_ thinks _I_ would do."

His kids exchanged an uncertain look. Present-Harry dismissed their doubts, certain that now he had a lead he'd figure this mess out. Future-Harry snickered while Dumbledore failed to hide a smile.

"Nice to see everyone's confident in me." Future-Harry said lightly.

"You are talking to yourself." Albus snickered.

Present-Harry made an impatient waving motion. "Son, shush! Working out important, confusing time magic here."

* * *

A few spins ahead of the clock…

"Harry will send us a message." Hermione Granger-Weasley thumped a fist on the table, looking at her family and the Malfoys with determination. They were all around a Ministry conference table. "He's not foolish enough to change time and—no matter when he is—he'll leave us a note. We know he, or Scorpius, left at least one. It's a decent assumption that there's a second letter."

"Brilliant." Ron frowned. "If we had the foggiest where this message could be. His vault?"

"It could have been seen too early." Ginny was hunched in thought. "Same with anything in our house. Unless he's hidden it, like with a code?"

Hermione shook her head. "That's too much of a risk, I don't think Harry would chance it. He'd go for something direct. Clear-cut."

Draco groaned. "It comes down to deciphering Potter's thoughts? Scorpius is lost."

"Draco, shush." Astoria batted at him.

"He's a reckless fool!" Draco complained. "We're trying to figure out his likely nonexistent plan? It's a wild kneazle chase."

"There's a method to Harry's madness." Hermione answered, not necessarily disagreeing.

* * *

…the clock turned back.

Present-Harry had begun pacing, hands flying through his hair. "Hermione will think I've left it somewhere with meaning, not only a letter postmarked for the right day or some such. A personal meaning, a significant one. But it has to be in a place that will be untampered with from 1995 on. Hermione doesn't know the year, so even longer than that would be best. There's more of a chance she'll think of it."

James gave Albus a glance. "Dad?"

"Not significant to her, though. It has to be something she knows is significant to me." Harry closed his eyes. "Hogwarts? The Room of Requirement, maybe. Beneath the diadem?"

"The what now?" Sirius asked.

"_Please forget I said that._" Future-Harry mumbled.

Present-Harry waved vaguely, not opening his eyes or noticing his other self. "Don't worry about it. I mean it, don't. It's a bad idea anyway, Hermione wouldn't think I'd risk going to Hogwarts."

* * *

"He wouldn't reveal himself to anyone in the past, not if he didn't have to." Hermione dismissed while muttering to herself. "He wouldn't dare go to the Burrow, Hogwarts, or anywhere with people he knows."

Ginny frowned. "The time-turner doesn't change the location, only the time. What if they ran across someone in Grimmauld Place?"

"Harry would have gotten them out immediately." Hermione replied, thoughts on the puzzle. "Besides, even if it was abandoned when he found it? He wouldn't risk leaving a message in a house where he knows most of the objects will be tossed away."

* * *

"Oh no," Harry groaned, "she's going to think Privet Drive."

* * *

"I've got it!" Hermione gave a wild cry, looking around enthusiastically. "A place that means everything to Harry. A place that's been abandoned for decades! It must be there."

"Fantastic." Ron scratched his nose. "Mind telling us where?"

"This is an utter waste of time." Draco sighed.

* * *

"Please don't let her go rummaging around that house." Harry was frowning. "I hope G—the others talk her out of it. Besides, with how tidy my Aunt kept it, it's not like a message would remain unfound for long."

* * *

"It's the only place that makes any sense!"

* * *

Harry paused his pacing, the obvious hitting him in a bright flash. "Oh. Okay, yeah. That'd work."

"What, Privet Drive?"

"Absolutely not." Harry had begun smiling. "Hermione, please be as brilliant as I know you are."

The group exchanged glances.

Future-Harry mimed tapping a watch. "That was slow."

"Shut up, it's perfect." Present-Harry gave a true grin.

* * *

Hermione got up with a pleased expression. "Harry had better be his typical, sentimental self."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Care to inform those of us who don't share your psychic connection with my husband?"

Hermione flushed but was no less determined. "Sorry, I only tried to put myself in his shoes. If I were him, I'd go to—"

* * *

"Godric's Hollow." Present-Harry said with relief. "The only question is if she'll check my parents' house or the graveyard first. I'd prefer to put it in my mother's headstone as there's less chance of it being tampered with. But Hermione wouldn't think I'd do that; too dark and macabre, y'know. So she'll go for the nursery and check the crib first. Then the bricks, assuming we might've gone back to before I was born. Failing that she'll demolish the house and start digging, but it's all good: she'll find the message in the crib. Now then, what should we write?"

Everyone stared at Harry, mouths agape.

"Harry." Sirius said awkwardly, the name sounding odd in his mouth. "That sounds great and all, but—"

"Dad, look." James spoke as though his father had gone senile. "It's very nice you think you can get inside Aunt Hermione's head—"

Scorpius twiddled with his hair. "Mr. Potter, sir, I'm not sure that's the most direct—"

Present-Harry held up a hand. "Trust me on this. Godric's Hollow is an important place to the war and to myself. Hermione knows this. She also knows it's been abandoned since 1981. If they think to look for a message, they'll search there."

"Good show, good show." Dumbledore agreed as he held up his pocket-watch, silencing the doubts. "Back to the main matter. You have roughly two hours and forty-five minutes remaining before the five hour limit passes. Are you able to get to the Ministry of Magic, procure the time-turner, travel back, and deposit these letters in time?"

Future-Harry chuckled, returning everyone's stares to him. "It'll take 'you' half an hour to break into the British Ministry and maybe 10 minutes max to clean up. Which leaves you plenty of time to snoop around Godric's Hollow. By the way, watch out for the staircase. That thing's moulding like crazy."

Present-Harry raised an eyebrow. "I see. As for the, ah, thing I'm thinking of?"

"Oh yeah, do that." There were a number of surprised looks. "You'll have plenty of time."

"Fantastic. Any trouble with the Ministry?"

"You're good." Future-Harry shrugged, taking the time-turner from his pocket. "A couple of _obliviates_ and you'll be through. I'd give you this one, but that'd create some kinda paradox thing. So, let's not." He paused. "Also, there's the awkward thing."

"Awkward thing?"

"Kids, left here, while you go trampling around the Ministry?" Future-Harry sighed. "There isn't a much better option."

Present-Harry gave a nearly identical sigh. "Yeah. But…you're here, I suppose. Which means it went alright?"

Future-Harry rubbed his eyes, pushing his glasses up. "I'm assuming so. Frankly? I'm confused beyond belief."

"Join the club." Present-Harry took a glance around the room. His kids seemed puzzled though happy enough. Scorpius was rummaging for something in his pocket. This would turn out alright. He wasn't even truly leaving them, after all: 'he' was already back. It'd be fine. He conjured a parchment and quill. "Ah, bugger it. What should we write?"

* * *

The clock split sideways, careening with a jovial spin.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter!"

Harry turned in the hallway, having just duplicated the letter and put them in his pocket. Scorpius was running up after him. "Yes?"

Scorpius skidded to a stop, looking at him in a wild way. "Mr. Potter," he said hurriedly, fumbling with something in his hands, "I'm gonna say something stupid. Like, really stupid. But I have to ask you."

Harry softened. "I highly doubt it's stupid. Even if it is, I've made my career doing stupid, reckless ideas. So I promise, you can tell me anything."

The boy took a deep breath. "I need you to save my mum."

The wizard blinked, taken aback. "Pardon?"

"She has a blood disease." Scorpius said rapidly. "It's genetic, grown for years! But if she'd known it was serious when she was young, it'd be nothing. _But she didn't_." He thrust a parchment at the man.

"Scorpius." Harry easily guessed what it read. "You know I can't. I'm extremely sorry, but this is a disaster in the making. We can't change the past."

"I know that, totally." He waved his hands. "But sir, she's dying! Actually dying. You've got to—"

Harry caught the boy's waving hand, his gaze sorry but sympathetic. He took the parchment as he did so, smoothing out the crumples to read it. "I can't, lad. Your safety and my children's safety comes first." He hesitated, gaze darting over the words. It was a simple, anonymous, and straightforward letter for Astoria Greengrass to just go to the Healer. "I promise I understand, there are many things I'd love to change myself. But we don't know how something like this could change things. It could…stop your mother and father from getting together, for example. Or some other effect. The point is, we can't alter the past."

Scorpius groaned. "We've already changed things! Butterfly wings!"

"Sorry?"

"Never mind. Sir, you have to listen to me." Scorpius nearly pleaded. "How would—how'd you feel if you could save _your_ mum? Wouldn't you?"

Harry froze, staring at him. The boy's eyes widened, realising what he'd said. "Of course I'd want to." Harry said at last, gripping the parchment. "But my mother's death was…crucial to the war. She made it so I could survive. I wouldn't risk two wars on that."

Scorpius had paled and was chewing over his words. "Sorry, bad example. But, it's like your dad! His death was pointless! Saving my mum would be _so easy!_"

Harry flinched back, this hitting him like a slap in the face. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry sorry, poor word choice. _But I'm right!_" Scorpius exclaimed. "Wouldn't you do anything to save them? It's just a letter!"

"I know how hard this is," Harry got ahold of himself, "but we simply can't change the—"

"The _Order of the Phoenix_ knows about us." Scorpius burst out rapidly. "Albus Dumbledore knows about us! You're stealing a time-turner! Which, that's awesome sir—but it changes the past. This all changes the past! What's one more letter?"

Harry truly hesitated for the first time, peering at the parchment he still held. Scorpius had a point. And his own mental argument of a 'slippery slope' came up extremely short when they were talking about a woman's life. A mother's life. He'd already pulled the Malfoys into this, didn't he owe them this much and more?

Scorpius must have sensed his changing thoughts, because he stepped forward, pressing in. "It's my mum." He pleaded. "Please, Mr. Potter, I'll do anything. Anything at all!"

Because it'd be so easy. Harry knew the lad was manipulating him, but it didn't matter. They had already changed the past, nothing would stop that. This would _add_ to it, yes. But Scorpius was right. He'd give anything to save his parents. He couldn't—not now, not ever. But the chance to change someone else's life like that…

He had a sudden vision of the roles being reversed; of him begging for his father's life to be spared.

"It's definitely a fatal disease?" Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts. Scorpius wasn't offended. Instead, he brightened slightly, surely seeing he was about to break.

"Please, Mr. Potter." He hesitated. "She, she has months."

Harry hesitated. Then he folded up the parchment and put it in his pocket. Scorpius beamed at him.

"The past has already been changed." Harry met the boy's relieved grin with a weak smile. He patted his shoulder. "I'll do what I can. One note about Healer appointments can't do that much harm."

"Thank you thank you, thank you sir!" The boy practically bounced in excitement. Harry could hardly blame him.

* * *

Forward crept the hands and clock chimes, spinning in their sockets.

"Grave grave grave grave grave." Ginny Potter hummed as she waltzed past the kissing gate and through the tombs. Hermione had a bee in her bonnet about the falling-apart cottage, Ron had went off to who-knows-where, and nobody seemed to think Ginny was on the right track. Which led her to question whether the other two had ever met her husband.

"Harry's the most paranoid man in the world," Ginny muttered to herself as she scouted for the familiar names, "and Hermione thinks he'd leave a message in the most speculated crime scene in Britain?"

It was nonsense, obviously. Harry wouldn't risk it. But Hermione was right about him having a sentimental streak; it just usually took a macabre turn.

"His mum first," she considered as she stepped down the dirt mixed with cobblestones, "then his dad, then the Peverells if he went back further than 1981."

The only doubt in her mind was if the letter would be in the headstone or the grave. But no, Harry would have never exhumed them. The thought alone would have made him run for the hills. So it was the headstones.

By this point she'd reached a familiar enclave and slowed, looking at the inscription she'd seen most Halloweens since she'd been with Harry. She fingered her wand as she looked at Lily Potter née Evans' grave. She'd always liked that her daughter shared the namesake. But now that her Lily was missing, seeing the name on the headstone…

Ginny coughed, shaking her head to clear the thought. She raised her wand, said a silent apology, and spoke aloud a quiet: "_Bombarda_."

The gravestone split unevenly down the middle in a small explosion. She took a faint breath.

"I'm so sorry Mrs. Potter." Ginny murmured as she stepped through the billowed puff of dust. "I'll put it to rights before I leave. Until then: _Accio Harry's message_."

Silence. Stillness.

"_Accio note_?"

Something was now shifting in the exposed rock, struggling. Soon enough a carefully wrapped package broke free and spiralled into the witch's relieved hands. Smoothing it of dust and stone, she saw it was a folded parchment note protected by a thin mesh of plastic. She didn't take the covering off, but there were large words on the front: 'For a Harpy.'

Ginny squeaked, clutching the parchment to her and setting the headstone to rights. As thrilled as she was to find the note, she was also pleased to have guessed her husband's hiding spot correctly. Hermione's intellect and Ron's intuition be damned!

With a quick good bye to the Potters she practically flew from the graveyard towards the cottage. Before she could figure out what to say to Hermione another redhead had raced up beside her, whirling her around with a shout.

"I FOUND IT, YEAH!" Ron hollered in delight, spinning his shocked sister in the air. As she came back to the pavement (trying to catch up to what had just happened) he whipped out a nearly identical parchment to her's. "Like Harry wouldn't have hidden it in that wreck of a Quidditch pitch out back. Told you! 'To Roonil Wazlib', see that? That's me!"

"Ron?"

"Yep?"

Ginny mutely held out her parchment. Ron blinked, staring from one to the other.

"Do you mean he—"

"I think so?"

"Blimey. Do you think Hermione…"

"I HAVE IT!" Hermione cried out as she hurried to them out of the cottage, waving another parchment in the air. As she skidded to a stop she was beaming and didn't notice the siblings' confusion. "It was in the cradle, I just needed to crack the wood. Harry's even addressed it to me: 'To the Shakespearean Queen.'" She scoffed to herself. "He knows I hate 'The Winter Queen' references, so naturally he goes on about Queen Hermione. He has the strangest sense of humour, I swear."

"Hermione," Ginny said pointedly, drawing her attention and gesturing at the other two parchments, "I think Harry has an even stranger sense of humour than you think."

Hermione looked at them confused, before comprehension dawned. The three of them stared at the messages in front of them, the cool breeze of Godric's Hollow swishing around.

Ron roared with sudden laughter, his body doubling over as the witches looked on in astonishment. "Bloody hell." He wiped tears from his eyes as he kept laughing. "I wonder how many he's hidden across Britain!"

* * *

The years whirled to and fro, the clock face becoming like the Weasley's: numerous hands, all whizzing in different directions.

After one Harry had left the room, many eyes turned to the remaining Harry.

"Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said. "Now that your younger self's gone: what were you 'thinking of'?"

Harry put the time-turner on the table. "I only did it because I had time." He explained. "I like having some redundancy plans. So I duplicated the letter and left a few more around. They're all well hidden, don't worry."

All of a sudden, he felt queasy. It felt similar to time-travel, yet it—it—

A wave rocketed through the room, making Harry double over with dizziness. His knuckles clutched the chair as he tried not to spew.

"Dad?"

"Dad!"

"Mr. Potter?"

"Harry?"

After a bit Harry weakly straightened, taking a bleary look around. "Wha, what just happened?"

"You were nearly ill." Came a concerned voice from right behind him. He jerked around and saw Mrs. Weasley, patting his shoulder. "Are you feeling alright? Can I get you some tea?"

Harry blinked at her. Then looked around. "What was that magic?"

"What magic?"

"The wave of magic that…" Harry trailed off, only seeing confused looks around him. "No one else felt that?"

"You okay?" Sirius said warily, looking as uncertain as ever. "Maybe that time magic messed with your head. You went weird there for a second."

"I felt fine earlier." Harry frowned, feeling a bit better. "What changed? My other self left, I felt dizzy, and then the wave happened. I don't understand." He more carefully examined the people around the table, recalling something. "Scorpius? Shouldn't you have run off after my past self?"

Scorpius blinked at him. "For what, sir?"

"Stop calling my dad 'sir'." Albus said automatically.

Harry hesitated, glancing at the door. "You gave me a note. For your mother. Except…" his stomach dropped, "oh no. No no no."

Scorpius only seemed more puzzled. "I didn't. Why would I do that?"

Harry paled, nearly getting whiplash in staring back at the boy. "Scorpius, this might sound crazy. But when we left 'the future', was your mother ill?"

"No?" He said, nonplused.

Dumbledore was frowning at them both. "Mr. Potter, what precisely happened from your point of view?"

Harry let out a long breath. "Right before I left, Scorpius came running up to me. He pleaded with me to leave a note to save his mother."

"I did what?" Scorpius squeaked.

"You agreed to this?"

"The woman was dying!" Harry said sharply to Dumbledore, having now paled considerably. "How could I say no? I didn't think it would shift the timeline too drastically to tell her to go to her damned check-ups!"

Scorpius' jaw was agape and Harry berated himself for being so blunt. "Mum was _what?_ No! She's super healthy." He sat back, paling nearly as much as Harry. "My mum was dying?"

"Apparently not in this timeline!" Harry groaned, rubbing his eyes. He'd apologise to the lad later. For now, he peered at Dumbledore. "Any idea how to fix this?"

The old man seemed torn between sympathy and faint amusement. "You could try to catch your other self at the Ministry. Or you could go once again into the past and destroy the note. Though, the 'wave of magic' only you felt could have been the timeline shifting. I imagine your other self has already diverged off. This also has the potential to create a new—"

"No. Stop." Harry exhaustedly held up a hand, barely keeping up with any of this. His head and heart pounded. This was all wrong, he knew that much. "Destroying the note would reverse it, resetting things and harming the woman?"

"I'm afraid, yes. That is, if it even worked. If your other self even still exists here." Dumbledore hesitated. "I admit, I doubt this could be rectified. Though, it isn't that you created or destroyed timelines. I believe it's more that you've travelled between them."

Harry let out a low breath, trying desperately not to panic. He properly looked at his kids. "As much as I hate this, can I read one of your minds? I need to see if I utterly mucked things up."

The teenagers exchanged weird glances.

"Sure?" James shrugged. "Have at it."

"I'm extremely sorry about this. I'll be as quick and gentle as possible." Harry hesitantly pointed his wand at his son. He knew this wasn't great for kids, but it was only going to be a light brush on his memories. "_Legilimens_."

_Ginny teaching James to play Quidditch. His own voice, clumsily singing lullabies. Eavesdroppers at their family meetings. Being woken by nightmares when he or Ginny forgot to put down a _silencio_._

_ Hearing about the Second War. Lily and James Potter's murder. The memorials. Teddy's grievance face. Whispers of the Deathly Hallows…even slighter whispers of the horcruxes…history lessons on the Prophecy. Hearing about the final battle on May 2nd._

Harry ended the spell. He let out a low breath, sorting out the memories. His brow creased in numbing worry. "I'm sorry about that. It's—nearly the same? Maybe in 'this' timeline we became slightly closer to the Malfoys. All the main events are the same." His thoughts were a mess; he didn't care about the incredulous stares. "Sweet Merlin, a different timeline. I, I think Astoria Malfoy got sick around a year ago? That is, a year from when we time travelled…you know what I mean. So if there are differences, it'd be from the past year?"

Quite a few people exchanged awkward looks.

Albus was staring at him uncertainly. "Not to sound crazy—but you are my dad, right?"

It didn't sound crazy, not at all. The same question was racing through his own head. "Yes, yes of course." He said as though in a dream, his thoughts muddled. His kids. _His_ kids. He'd left his kids! _Why the hell had he left his kids?_ He stood up abruptly, chair falling back. "I can fix this."

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore frowned.

"I can fix this!" Harry gazed around at his children (oh god, not his children), then at a horrified-looking Scorpius. There was no right answer. But he knew with a certainty: he needed to get back to his kids. "I'm so sorry. But I'll fix this. I love you, I'll fix this, _it'll be fine! I love you!_"

"Dad?"

"Daddy?"

"_Mr. Potter!_" Dumbledore stood up, his voice echoing in concern. But Harry was already racing out the door, hand clenched around the time-turner, making up a wayward plan as he ignored the shouts behind him. In the entranceway he darted into the closet, squishing against the robes as he slammed the door behind him. He didn't notice a person flinging himself out the front door.

"MR. POTTER!" Came Dumbledore's cry, but Harry was already twisting the time-turner back. With a pull at his navel and a whishing around his ears, the shouts and pounding footsteps disappeared. The world settled. The dark around him swirled to a stop, everything nearly silent.

Harry rested his head against the closed door, heart beating through his chest. 15 minutes back in time. That's all it'd take, wouldn't it? His younger self would come out, he'd be stopped by Scorpius, and Harry could destroy the note. Easy. Completely fixable.

Only? Only, Scorpius had been clueless. It hadn't happened. But it _had_ happened, he'd done it! It'd be fine, it'd be fine.

Harry was stuck with his own thoughts as the minutes ticked by. Eventually, he heard footsteps. He peered through a crack in the door and saw himself duplicating a letter as he walked. He waited, waited for the second pair of footsteps. Waited for Scorpius to dart out. His younger self put the letters in his pocket. Scorpius would be out any moment.

His younger self left Grimmauld Place, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. That's—that's not what'd happened. It couldn't be what'd happened! Unless, he'd created a new future with Scorpius' message. Or, a past? Whichever he was stuck in and Merlin knew he was confused beyond reason. But the one thing that was firm in his mind? James' memories had been different.

Not that different, but enough. Astoria Malfoy had been closer to Audrey. The reluctant Malfoys had been at a few dinners at theirs'. Scorpius had come over more, not looking as sad. Albus had gone over to Malfoy Manor and come back with platters of Mrs. Malfoy's cookies.

It wasn't bad, not at all. But it hadn't been right. _His_ James, _his_ Albus, _his_ Lily didn't have these memories. Now they were somewhere out there, waiting for him to come back. They'd keep waiting. He couldn't return to them.

"_Mr. Potter!_"

The shout brought Harry back to reality. He felt tears on his cheeks. He had to fix this, he had to get back. The note! The note made all the difference.

Without thinking, without pausing, he left the closet and made a dash to the front door. Exiting, he didn't give a thought to his counterpart right behind him.

"MR. POTTER!" Came Dumbledore's cry, identical to before. Harry slammed the door and skittered down to London's streets, before apparating on the spot.

The Greengrass house was the same one he'd left shortly before, having put the note on Astoria Greengrass' bedside table. Harry hesitated for a bare moment, staring at the house across the elegant yard. He was sentencing her to death. Or, at least to a severe illness.

But this had been a mistake from the start. He'd been too sentimental, that was it. He needed to destroy the damn note.

Harry started to dart forward, but was stopped by nothing. Or everything. Something invisible. He grimaced, resting his hands against the not-there wall. There hadn't been a ward here earlier, there'd only been one of those around the home itself. He pounded on the wall, feeling a strong magic against his fingers. A thought crept into his mind—one that came from nowhere and everywhere—telling him it was impenetrable.

Like hell it was!

Harry pounded on the wall more furiously, staring hatefully at bare air. _Why couldn't he get through?_ He drew his wand right when there was a _pop!_ of apparation behind him. He spared the new wizard one look, before pointing at the wall and casting every diagnosis and revealing spell he knew. Blasting charms followed, all to no effect. Harry barely noticed the other man putting up privacy and silencing charms.

"Mr. Potter," Albus Dumbledore said tiredly, approaching him as the spells died down, "it's over."

Harry growled under his breath, pausing in spell casting. "What's this wall?"

"I expect a paradox."

"A para—oh no, don't you dare!" Harry barked at him. "Apparently I changed the past. Why can't I change it again by ripping up the blasted note?"

Dumbledore looked his true age. He stepped closer. "The first time was not a paradox, it was merely the timeline being shifted. But this?" He sighed wearily. "My boy, here? No Harry Potter delivered a note to Miss Greengrass. Yet, the woman remained healthy. Thus, the note must exist. It simply wasn't delivered by anyone."

Harry stared at him. He'd never been more confused, nor hated Dumbledore more. "What'd you mean? _I_ put it there!"

"You had." Dumbledore was right in front of him, his gaze compassionate. "I expect this was the wave of magic that only you felt. _This_ cannot be changed. You are only here because the young Mr. Malfoy desperately wanted to save his mother. If you destroyed the note now, you would never have known to destroy it. There would have been no reason to. But because of this you would've been changed, and would have set the note after all. To which you'd wish to destroy it, and repeat. An endless, fruitless circle. That is what is being blocked." The wizard rested his hands on his shoulders. "Mr. Po—Harry. Beyond this wall is a paradox."

Harry opened and closed his mouth, throat choking. "My—my children. I, I can't—"

"You were torn about leaving the note, yes?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes. Extremely." Harry breathed, his world collapsing around him. His wand had long since dropped to the ground. "I'd told Scorpius no, but then he'd mentioned my parents. I…I thought it'd be okay."

Dumbledore nodded. "In some timeline, you would have refused the request. It's exceedingly likely that one of you would have taken that road. So? A version of you that chose differently returned to his children. They aren't alone."

Harry's legs were wobbly. It was hard to breathe. "There's, there's the other 'me'. The one from before, where Scorpius hadn't stopped him? He's still here. These are _his kids_."

"They are your children." Dumbledore said, his voice full of understanding and sympathy. "I expect your counterpart…oh, time isn't quite like that. An individual isn't separate people. One can become separated by their choices to various lines of time, but that is all. So your counterpart? It's as likely the paradox erased that 'choice', as it is that he went to a timeline of his own, with his children just the same."

"He won't—_I_ won't—there's not another me who'll pop up?"

"Highly unlikely, as they would have been here well within the five hour mark."

Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It comes down to this: I'm not leaving my kids alone. Any of my kids. I don't give a damn about paradoxes! I'll break through!"

Dumbledore glanced away to the impossible wall. "When we're speaking of timeline splitures," he said at last, "there's not merely one individual decision. Picture being at a fork in the road. In one timeline, you turn left. The other, you turn right. Though you might be in the 'left' timeline, there's a version that would have gone to the 'right'. Think of how we decided to take this path. _You_ popped in, thereby proving an additional time travel would occur. I can assure you: if you had not appeared, I would not have recommended time-travelling a second time."

Part of the weight came off Harry's shoulders. "A version of me is there, you're sure? In the last timeline?" He pressed. "With my kids?"

"Almost certainly."

"I'm in a universe where everything's mainly the same, except one woman isn't on death's door?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "It appears so."

Harry was silent for a long time. "They must be freaking out." He said hollowly, at long last. The night sunk into him, delving into his very bones. "There's no way I didn't scare them."

Dumbledore patted his shoulder. "So it's time to return and reassure them."

"Reassure them that I'm their dad? Even if I'm—I'm—" not. Harry couldn't finish it.

"You are." Dumbledore stated. He said it with such conviction that Harry yearned to grab hold of it and cling on for dear life. "Between you and I? We're all in need of calm and rest."

The two were quiet for heavy moments. The night was tranquil yet pressed down on them.

"On a different note," Albus Dumbledore said with an uncertain tone, "this timeline appears to have unequivocally changed. Perhaps it'd even be wise to keep the time-turner. Though, to be clear, the concerns about keeping future events secret still hold. Yet? Now that we're alone, if you might pardon an old man's curiosity," he hesitated, "I must ask. Your…scar."

Harry looked at him properly, remembering exactly who he was talking to. He took a step back and finally pulled away from the light hold. Did keeping the future a secret matter anymore? Did anything make a difference? He didn't know and he'd never felt more stupid. Nor had the stakes ever been this high.

Nor had he ever been able to get answers. This wasn't the right time, but Merlin. It was so tempting. Just within reach, and had the benefit of prolonging the return to Grimmauld. Thousands of questions raced through his head, millions of concerns. Yet the words pulled from his mouth were— "Did you know I'd survive?"

The air grew terribly silent. Not a fearful silence; one filled with sorrow and things unspoken.

At last, the Headmaster opened his mouth. "My dear boy—"

"No, never mind." Harry mentally shut the door on this. He couldn't be distracted. Couldn't put off the inevitable. And, did he even want answers? "My kids are far more important than this nonsense." He crouched to scoop up his wand, silently kicking himself for letting it drop. Some Head Auror he was. Some father. "Let's get back to Grimmauld Place."

Dumbledore looked like he was about to say something, before rethinking it.

"My scar's a regular scar." Harry said roughly, straightening back to a stand. "I'm no longer a Parselmouth. Your 'plan' worked, I walked to my death. Congrats, I suppose."

Harry didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he apparated back to his home that wasn't his home. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the doorway and prepared to meet his children.

Time rattled back to its usual pace. Tick tocking past minutes, hours, seconds, as the present meandered ever forward.

* * *

**A/N:** Multiple timelines exist in "Harry Potter" simultaneously (ex: In "Cursed Child", Albus and Scorpius remembered their original timeline when they were in a different one, and they could return to the original one), which I thought would be fun to play with. Also, if you're familiar with any of my fanfics, you know I love to psychologically torture poor Harry.

So our heroes travelled back decades to the 1990s, creating a new timeline. From that point, Harry travelled back a _further_ five hours, creating a tiny closed time loop just for himself (where anything that's left there would go into both timelines). But leaving the note(s) would change the timeline.

Original Harry's from timeline A. Harry and co travelled to timeline B. When Harry left the note for Astoria, he inadvertently created timelines C and D. Timeline C is where Astoria's healthy, and timeline D was created when the future timeline C people travelled back and to 1995. The paradox is that after all of this, timeline C Harry and the note for Astoria shouldn't actually exist (this is partly seen in rule #2 below).

IMPORTANT: Don't feel bad for timelines A or B! Another version of timeline A Harry decided against leaving the note for Astoria and returned to the other 'timeline A people' stuck in timeline B. All the Potter kids get some version of their dad back. Also, assume anything that happens in this story would be mirrored in the other timelines (see #7 below).

But, this story follows the timeline A Harry who did give the warning note to Astoria. We'll be seeing what happens in timeline D in 1995, while they try to return to (or go to) the future of timeline C. **In a bad nutshell, this story will now follow: timeline A Harry, his timeline C kids+Scorpius, the timeline C future people, and the 1995 timeline D people.**

* * *

~~ Now's a good time to go over 'my' HP canon rules of time travel. This is a big list, so apologies. But I wanted to be comprehensive and couldn't find an equivalent! As J.K. Rowling wrote two different and vague time travel laws, this is my attempt to reconcile them.

**1\. If you time travel to the past where you still exist (or where you _will_ exist in that future), your body/mind will remain the same and _not_ replace your past self. If you don't (and will never) exist in the alternative world, you disappear.** Ex: When Harry and Hermione travelled back in _PoA_, their bodies/memories remained intact and they didn't replace their past selves. This is also seen in _CC_ when Delphi, Albus, and Scorpius travelled to 1981; though they hadn't yet been born, they retained their bodies and memories. But when Albus and Scorpius travelled from past A to future B, Albus would have never been born in that timeline and thus disappeared.

**2\. If you're from 'present A' and go to 'past A' and change things, and then go forward in time? You'll land in 'present B'. You _will not_ get memories of world B.** Ex: In _CC_, Scorpius takes over the body of his alternate self B (it's assumedly the same body) yet retains all memories of world A (rather than of world B). Also when Albus and Scorpius were both 'alive' in the alternative present, they similarly took the places of their alternative selves.

**3\. In reference to #2: the mind/soul and body are separate.** This isn't a new thing for HP canon. Dementor's kiss, anyone? But the kiss showed the _soul_ and the body were separate. We're talking about retaining memories here, which is interesting.

**4\. The past can be changed multiple times.** Ex: In _CC_, Scorpius leaves the dark world B by undoing his own changes in the past and then returning to his original world A.

**5\. Alternate realities coexist. One doesn't disappear when another appears: all keep going.** Ex: Each time Albus and Scorpius travelled in time, they kept returning to 'a' present with all memories intact. When they left their original reality time didn't freeze, the other people in the original timeline kept going. So the dark reality Scorpius landed himself in didn't destroy all the good realities, he was just trapped in the wrong future. Sadly, this means the alternative world Ron, Hermione, and Snape were all actually kissed by dementors.

**6\. Chronological time continues at the same pace in each reality (past/present/future). ie: An hour in the past is an hour in the future.** Ex: After being sent back to 1981, Albus and Scorpius determined it would 'shortly' be Halloween in the present they'd just left _as well as_ where they were in the past, because they knew time kept going in each reality. Basically, if it was Halloween in the present, it was Halloween in the past.

**7\. The default is for alternate realities to be incredibly similar to each other, though huge variations can occur.** Ex: When Albus and Scorpius changed the past they landed in a world where R/Hr never married and Albus had been sorted into Gryffindor. But the Potters were otherwise identical to the original world and Harry (while he might have had a worse temper) still had a tense relationship with Albus (likewise, Scorpius and Albus existed in their 'original' bodies and they'd still become friends). This is why alternate!Delphi knew about their time-travel plan in the alternative present; their alternative selves had made the same plan.

**8\. Unlike what _PoA_ heavily implied, closed time loops aren't really a thing.** You have to force it. They're also only possible for any time travel five hours or less. For anything more, any change will result in an alternative present/future.

**9\. Also unlike what _PoA_ implied, 'fixed points in time' don't really exist.** Anything can be changed. No event is too important to remain intact in a timeline. The only exception might be with a paradox (like I show in this chapter), though this doesn't occur in canon. Ex: In _CC_ there's an alternative reality where Harry had died and Voldemort had won. This was created from a relatively small change to the timeline.

Sorry, I know this is confusing nonsense—I charted it out mainly to keep myself sane. This fanfic will hopefully follow these rules, though I'm planning plenty of loopholes. As an aside, who gives their series two different time travel laws? I had to jump through hoops to get any of this to work!

**The actual short summary? "Harry Potter" is canonically a multiverse. 'Time travel' is nearly more similar to dimension hopping, where presumably any possibility can and will occur.** You don't want to know how long it took me to figure that out.


End file.
